


a bagel for all seasons

by disgruntledkittenface



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: American AU, B&B owners Harry and Louis, Candace Cameron Bure is a villain, Cats, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas tree farm owner Liam, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Hallmark Christmas Movie AU, Harry is a cat lady, Helene Horlyck, I used names of Niall’s band members for his douche-y coworkers, M/M, Mistletoe, Niall’s quest for his morning bagel, a couple of other Hallmark actors sprinkled in for fun, and Simons Cowell and Fuller, baker Shawn, big city lawyer Niall, he’s lost the spirit of Christmas, how does no one in this town eat bagels, it's what she deserves, mention of death of loved one (see author’s note), other characters mentioned incl James Arthur and Justin Bieber, salty grandpa Niall, side larry - Freeform, so many cats, sorry if they’re actually great guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface
Summary: “You know what I think?” Shawn asks with a trademark grin. “I think we’re growing on you. Admit it, big city lawyer, this small town isn’t so bad.”Niall cackles. He should hold back more, since he is leaving soon, but he likes this confident, joking side of Shawn, so he relents.“It’s not so bad here,” he admits. “Can’t get a bagel to save my life, but the people are friendly.”Niall is a lawyer from the big city who’s sent to a small town to get paperwork signed for his firm’s biggest client. He only expected to be there for one night, but the longer his stay lasts, the more he starts to fall in love with the town and its cast of quirky characters.One in particular.A Shiall Hallmark Christmas AU.





	a bagel for all seasons

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [suddenclarityharry](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/), for the inspo, without which I never would have written the Hallmark Christmas Movie AU in my heart. All the love to my betas for their encouragement and flails along the way: [ abrighteryellow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrighteryellow/pseuds/abrighteryellow), thank you for insisting that my working title was the right kind of ridiculous and for that one plot point suggestion!!; [ queenofquiet17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofquiet17/pseuds/queenofquiet17), thank you for your help with the concert scene, I’m sorry and you’re welcome for introducing you to Shawn’s SMOOTH voice; [ yeah_alright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeah_alright/pseuds/yeah_alright), thank you for the feedback and legal expertise (any remaining mistakes are my own and lbr serve to make this more like a Hallmark movie); and [ crinkle-eyed-boo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimmieRocks/pseuds/crinkle-eyed-boo), thank you for reading and cheerleading even from the middle of your investigation into Wellington. You mean the world to me. 
> 
> Note: There is a conversation about Robin having passed away at the end of the December 20 section, and it’s brief but it IS sad, so please be forewarned if that’s a trigger for you, especially around the holidays. <3

**December 17**

A gust of wind hits just as Niall walks out of the bakery, the cold biting at the bare skin of his face. He mutters a curse under his breath as he attempts to shield himself by holding up the bag that contains his usual morning bagel. 

Christ, he hates this time of year. 

And not just because of the bitter cold, although he could do well without it. No, it’s the Santas ringing their bells for spare coins on every corner. The Christmas carols that play everywhere he goes. The inescapable red and green decorating every restaurant, every store, even most offices. Empty greetings of cheer from people in each walk of his life.

Constant reminders that this is supposed to be the  _ most wonderful _ time of year.

Well, bah humbug. It's all nonsense, and Niall has no use for it. He quickens his pace, weaving his way past pedestrians on the sidewalk who have slowed to gape at the bright store windows. The Fulwell Building, home of the law offices of Turner, Pearlman, Turner, Winston & Denton, is just ahead, a rare safe haven from all the merriment and cheer that surrounds him. Niall just has to reach it and he can grab a coffee from the top-of-the-line Italian machine in the breakroom and enjoy his daily allotted 15 minutes for breakfast and the morning paper before moving on to the rest of his busy itinerary.

He finally makes it through the glass doors and into the purposefully imposing lobby of his firm. He nods to the security guards and swipes his ID card to gain entry. The elevator takes him swiftly up to the 50th floor and, when the doors slide open, he gratefully leaves the soft strands of classical Christmas songs behind.

Striding down the hallway, Niall spots a cluster of coworkers, indistinguishable in their identical gray suits, gathered by his assistant’s desk. He furrows his brow, wondering what kind of crisis has arisen and whether or not it will interfere with the morning routine that he needs more than usual to shake off all the holiday cheer.

One of the men turns to look over his shoulder and Niall recognizes him as Conor from the Tax Division, who’s always up for a grabbing a drink or three after work (and, Niall’s heard, at most working lunches). 

“Hey, there he is!” Conor calls out, lightly punching the arms of the men next to him. Two heads swivel in unison to look back toward Niall.

“Man of the hour,” John declares, attempting to cover obvious envy with a grin.

Hm, what could that… oh.  _ Oh. _ What if today is the day?

“Morning, fellas,” Niall says cooly as he reaches the group. “What are we gossiping about?”

“Well, Horan,” Jake chimes in with a clap to Niall's back, “word on the street is that boss man wants to see you.” 

He delivers the rumor with relish, no obvious envy there, and Niall can't tell if the word on the proverbial street is good or bad. Schooling his face into a neutral expression, Niall peers around them into his empty office.

“Where's Hailee?” he asks, looking back to the clique of suits closing in on him. 

Either they’re here for a last look at him on his way out, like passersby gawking at a car accident, or for a last chance to be polite to his face before he's in a position to help or hurt them; maybe they’re not sure which. Niall can't blame them, really, he's been in their Bruno Magli shoes enough times. That’s life in a big, competitive law firm. He just needs to find his assistant so he can figure out what’s going on.

“Outta my way, boys,” a slightly husky voice calls out from behind the pack. “Coming through.”

Hailee flips her long brunette hair over her shoulder as the crowd parts for her.

“You, in there,” she orders, pointing from Niall to his office before flapping her hand at the others. “Bye, boys.” 

“Hailee, when are you going to go out with me?” Jake calls after her, puffing out his chest as his friends laugh. “Come on, don’t you need a real man?”

“Let me know if you see any, Curran,” Hailee says over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at Niall as she sets a manila folder on her desk. 

Niall smothers a laugh and marches into his office. It’s his sanctuary: There are built-in shelves all along one wall filled with black-covered law volumes. His sturdy black desk faces two gleaming chrome chairs for guests, just comfortable enough so as not to give anyone back problems but certainly not welcoming enough to encourage anyone to stay past their appointment time. To his relief, there’s no mandatory red or green to disrupt his minimalist decor; all that hangs on his walls are his diplomas and there's a single framed photo on the desk of Niall and his father and older brother from their dinner out to celebrate Niall passing the bar. 

Everything just so, just the way he likes it. 

After setting his briefcase and the bag from the bakery on his desk and hanging his overcoat on the coat rack, Niall looks up expectantly at Hailee.

“Well,” he says, rubbing his cold hands together. “Is this it? Is today the day?”

“Good morning, Hailee,” she singsongs, putting on a deep voice from the guest chair she's perched on. “How are you this morning? Here, I grabbed a bagel for you since I know you usually skip breakfast to make it to the office before me and finalize my schedule for the day–”

“Good morning, Hailee,” Niall interrupts, rolling his eyes. If she wasn't the best assistant in the office and possibly smarter than him, he'd never put with this much sass. As it is, however, he'd be lost without her. “How are you on this freezing cold morning that might set the course for my entire future with this firm?”

“Oh, so you heard about that,” Hailee smirks. “I swear, the men here are worse than the girls in my sorority, all gossip, no sense of discretion.”

_ “Hailee,” _ Niall says, dropping into his chair behind the desk. “We've both been waiting a long time for this. Just tell me, does one of the partners really want to see me?”

“Helene called first thing morning,” Hailee nods with a grin. “Ben Winston wants to see you in his office in ten.”

Niall whistles. If that's true, he may just be about to become the youngest junior partner in firm history. It's everything he's been working for, worth all the late nights, weekends, holidays in the office. He's definitely earned this.

“Better hurry up and eat your bagel,” Hailee says as she gets up to sweep out of the room. “Coffee's on your desk, you're welcome.”

Niall quickly chokes down a couple of bites of bagel, mainly so his stomach won't growl in front of his boss (well, more like his boss's boss technically), and grabs the paper cup of cappuccino that Hailee had so thoughtfully procured. He drains it on the way up to the corner office on the top floor of the building, tossing the cup into a trash can before he turns the corner and flashes a smile at Winston's assistant. 

“Helene! How are you?” Niall greets the prim blonde at the desk. He swallows his disdain for the season, knowing the quickest way to Helene's heart. “Did I hear that you've brought in your world-famous gingerbread cookies?”

“I did!” Helene says warmly, gesturing to a tin on the corner of her desk. “But you can take one on your way out, Mr. Winston said to send you straight in, dear.”

“Ah, alright,” Niall nods, wondering whether that's good or bad and if he might be able to get out of here later without taking a cookie. “Better get a move on then, thank you.”

Niall knocks on the doorframe to Winston's office, forcing his nerves down in an effort to avoid that inane “Knock, knock” that accompanies every literal knock on his own door. 

Ben Winston, probably once a handsome man but nowadays leaning toward smarmy with the slicked-back hairstyle he's made popular at the firm, looks up from his iPhone and gnashes his teeth into a veneer of a smile when he sees Niall.

“Horan, my good man,” Winston exclaims, waving Niall into the office. “Take a seat! Jamie was supposed to join us but he's stuck on a call with the London office.”

“Oh, the Corden deal?” Niall says conversationally, wishing the situation were reversed and he could meet with the other senior partner, James Denton, instead; he's far less creepy and not so overly familiar. 

“Eh, who cares,” Winston shrugs, setting his iPhone down and sitting back with his hands behind his head to consider Niall. “I have a new assignment for you, Horan.”

Niall raises his eyebrows. That's… not either possibility that he'd considered in the short time since he learned about this meeting. 

“There's a Christmas tree farm, of all things,” Winston continues, “that Simon Cowell wants to acquire as part of the Syco deal.”

“A Christmas tree farm?” Niall asks, trying to look thoughtful. He should have known this godforsaken holiday would worm its way into his work like it tries to do with all other aspects of his life.

“Christmas tree farm,” Winston confirms, leaning forward. “He's rather insistent about it, it’s been in the works for months, but the owner changed his mind, apparently, and now he won't sign the paperwork.”

“Okay,” Niall says slowly, nodding. “What do you need me to do? Draft a letter?”

“We're far past that, I'm afraid,” Winston replies seriously. “If the Syco deal isn't closed before the end of the year, we're all fucked. You know how badly Cowell wants to stick it to Simon Fuller. No, I need you to go and convince this hick to sign in person.”

Winston presses a button on his intercom and leans closer than he needs to in order to speak into it.

“Ms. Horlyck,” he barks, “what’s the name of that podunk town we need Horan to go to?”

“Ivy Hollow, sir,” Helene's voice crackles over the speaker. “It's about four hours by train.”

“Ivy Hollow,” Winston repeats, lifting his hand from the button without thanking the woman who Niall can only assume is his long-suffering assistant. Maybe he will actually take a cookie. “Need you on the next train. That won't be a problem, will it?”

“No, sir,” Niall replies immediately. This may not be what he was expecting, but no one turns down a request – or command – from a senior partner. 

“Excellent!” Winston declares, clapping his hands together and standing. Niall gets up too as Winston rounds his desk to clap Niall on the back. “You get this done, as soon as possible, and you can look forward to big things in the new year, Horan, if you catch my drift.”

He winks at Niall, actually winks, and Niall plasters a smile on his face to mask how his head is swimming. Despite the holiday cheer, this day had started so normally and all of a sudden he has a one-way ticket to some town in the middle of nowhere with a Christmas tree farm, the existence of which Niall has never even considered. 

“My assistant will coordinate with yours,” Winston says, a clear dismissal. “You’ll have everything you need to get this done by lunch. Try to get some billable hours in before you go. Oh, and on the train, too.”

“Of course,” Niall nods, but Winston has already closed the door just behind Niall. Alright then. He offers Helene a weak smile, and she nods sympathetically at him, pushing the open tin of cookies toward him. He takes one, and manages a pathetic wave before turning the corner. Deciding to wait to throw the cookie away just in case he gets spotted, he pulls out his phone and calls Hailee. As soon as she picks up, he hisses, “What the hell is a Christmas tree farm and why would Simon fucking Cowell want to acquire one?” 

*

Niall looks out the window as the train shudders to a stop. It’s dark outside, so the only glimpse he can get of this small Christmas tree farm town in the middle of nowhere is at the strings of holiday lights adorning every building. Not that he cares much for a closer look, he’ll be out of here as soon as he gets this guy to sign his paperwork tomorrow. Niall pats at the chest pocket of his overcoat which contains his return ticket for the next day. Thank god.

There’s only a few other passengers, so it’s easy to gather his briefcase and large overnight bag and head out to the front of the train station. There’s a guy about his age holding a sign with NEIL HORAN written on it in big block letters. Niall sighs, but makes his way over.

“Neil?” the guy asks, his raspy voice hopeful. It can’t be much fun waiting out in the cold like this, so Niall decides not to make too much of a thing about the name.

“Niall Horan,” he responds politely, shifting his overnight bag on his shoulder and reaching out to shake the guy’s hand.

“Oh, sorry about that,” the guys says breezily. It’s not exactly rude, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Isn’t he supposed to be in customer service of some kind? “Louis Tomlinson, co-owner and proprietor of Ivy House. Right this way, let’s get out of this cold.”

Right, Ivy House, the only – and Hailee had assured him,  _ only _ in the literal sense – accommodations within twenty miles of this town. This truly is the middle of nowhere; Niall already misses the city with its conveniences like Lyft and actual hotels. He could weep thinking of the missed spa opportunities of his usual business trips. Niall hasn’t stayed at an actual bed and breakfast in… maybe ever, now that he thinks of it. Oh, well. It’s only for one night. He follows Tomlinson to the parking lot where he opens the hatch of a nondescript Jeep that has to be at least five years old.

“This is us,” Tomlinson announces with a smile, tossing the sign in the back and waving for Niall to do the same with his luggage. 

It’s just one night. One night. Niall can do one night. 

He offers Tomlinson a closed-lip smile; if his father could see him now, trying to act like he’s not above placing his own luggage in the damn car. Tomlinson closes the hatch once Niall’s done and heads toward the driver’s door. Niall climbs in the passenger seat and surreptitiously looks around the SUV; it’s a little worse for the wear, but neat and tidy at least.

“Sorry about all this,” Tomlinson says, waving a hand around the inside of the Jeep. He shifts into gear and starts to pull out of the parking lot. “My husband, Harry, he usually makes the pickups and dropoffs, but we’re so busy this time of year between the B&B and our other jobs, and this being a last-minute reservation, he had to stay back and make sure your room was ready.”

“No trouble at all,” Niall lies, peering out the car window at the downtown area they’re passing through. Even he has to admit the quaint mid-century buildings have their charm. “Other jobs? What do you do?”

“Me, I’m the drama teacher at the high school,” Tomlinson answers, flipping on his blinker as he makes a left turn. “There’s a big concert with all the school-age kids in a few days, so that’s been running me ragged. Harry, he works part-time at the library.”

Niall hums politely. He’s wondering how much more small talk he’ll have to take when the Jeep pulls into a driveway and Tomlinson turns the car off. Jesus, this town really is small. 

“This is it,” he announces. “Home sweet home.”

As Niall gets out of the car and walks to get his bags, since he’s pretty sure no one else is about to do it for him, he spies a sign saying just that (“Home sweet home”) hanging above the front door. He refrains from snorting. After getting his bags, he turns to follow Tomlinson up the path to the front door, taking in the sight before him.

The large white house is in decent shape; no obvious need for a new paint job, though Niall reserves that judgment for when he can see it in the light of day. Tonight, the warm rainbow lights lining every edge and corner of the house give it a cozy glow. Potted poinsettias appear all along the wraparound porch and there’s a holly wreath on the front door. Clever. Just as Niall is about to follow Tomlinson in through the door, he spot a menorah in one of the windows. 

Well, that’s interesting. In Niall’s experience, towns of this size aren’t exactly bastions of diversity. But Tomlinson did mention running this place with his husband, so maybe there’s hope for the next 18 hours or so yet.

“Hello, hello!” 

Niall looks up to see a slender man with long curly brown hair in a red sweater (with a truly hideous green Christmas tree on the front) rushing down the hall toward him with a grin. He reaches out to take Niall’s bags. 

Finally, some service around here. 

“Welcome to Ivy House,” the man says cheerfully, slinging Niall’s (very expensive) leather overnight bag over his shoulder and lifting the briefcase with his other hand. “I’m Harry, you already met my husband Louis, who’s disappeared somewhere, I suppose. No matter! Your assistant Hailee, she’s lovely, by the way, and smart as a whip, I certainly hope you’re paying her what’s she’s worth, already gave us your information and card to keep on file, so I’ll just show you up to your room now,” he continues as he waves for Niall to follow him up the staircase. “You must be exhausted from the trip, although train travel really harkens back to a simpler time, don’t you think, while retaining those creature comforts? At least no one can recline the seat in front of you. Or can they? No, no, they can’t. Right? Anyway, you’re just here in the Holly Suite…”

Harry unlocks the door to his suite with an actual key, not a keycard, which he promptly hands over to Niall. The walls are papered a bright red (holly red, Niall supposes) and there’s a small desk crammed in the corner, but no television. Niall looks around, a bit panicked, before he finally spots the door to the ensuite. He breathes a sigh of relief that he won’t have to share a bathroom in the hallway tonight. 

A large four-poster bed takes up most of the suite (generous term, that) and Harry sets Niall’s things on it before turning with a flourish. 

“Breakfast starts at seven!” he announces with downright glee before moving back to the door. “And don’t worry if you’re not an early riser, you should see Lou trying to get up on time in the morning, he’s a nightmare, so if you make your way downstairs by nine, you’ll be fine or I can help you find the diner or the bakery–”

“Thank you!” Niall interrupts, unsure how long Harry can keep going on his own. “Thanks very much, Harry, I’ll see you in the morning. First thing.”

“Wonderful!” Harry exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Just holler if you need absolutely anything at all. Good night!”

And with that, the relentless chatter is finally gone. Niall collapses onto his bed next to his things.

One night. He can do one night.

**December 18**

There’s a cat on his chest. Purring.

Loudly.

Niall blinks awake in confusion. He’d slept in fits and starts; it was just so  _ quiet, _ no bustling city below to lull him to sleep. Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand to confirm he’s woken before his alarm, Niall winces and groans as the surprisingly heavy tabby cat delicately reaches a paw out to poke his nose.

Alright, that’s it. 

Gently but firmly, he displaces the cat from his chest, breathing more easily as he (she? Fuck’s sake, what does it matter) stalks down the bed and curls up to glare at him. How did a cat even get in here? Did Hailee know this B&B had cats and, if so, why didn’t she tell him? Not that he would have ordered a feline wake-up call. No, Niall’s sure Hailee would have mentioned it. Isn’t that the kind of thing they should put on the website? 

_ “Guests can expect to be woken by random cats.” _

Niall sits up and grabs his phone, about to text Hailee to complain before deciding against it. It’s just one night; it’s not worth it. Niall will be gone in a few hours, and he’ll never have to deal with this or any other cat again. 

After dragging himself from the admittedly cozy bed, Niall stumbles into the ensuite. The shower is tiny, but it will do. He turns on the water to let it warm up and moves to the sink, where he’d unpacked his toiletries the night before. Everything is lined up neatly on the counter, just as he likes it. Niall brushes his teeth and then grabs the travel-size bottles of Kiehl’s products that he’ll need before stepping into the shower. 

The water pressure is terrible, so Niall makes quick work of showering. He towels off and strides into the bedroom, stopping in his tracks when he sees the tabby still on the bed, watching him imperiously. Oh, right. He supposes the cat wouldn’t be able to let itself out. But it had let itself in, so who knows.

Ignoring the cat, he moves to the closet where he’d hung up his suits, the one he’d worn yesterday and the one he’d packed. Not that he was going to need more than one, but always best to be prepared. Deciding on the blue, he plucks the hanger from the rod and sets the suit neatly on the bed before opening up the dresser drawers to get the rest of his outfit. Once he’s dressed, he re-packs his briefcase and grabs his overcoat before checking the time: It’s exactly 7:00 a.m., so he can head downstairs for breakfast.

Niall sighs in satisfaction. Maybe it’s a good thing the cat woke him up; the quicker he gets this day started, the quicker it will be over. He gingerly picks the cat up off the bed, not so heavy now that he’s (she’s?) not a weight crushing his chest, and sets him (her?) on the floor. He grabs his briefcase and opens the door, looking back at the cat, who’s making no move to follow him to the hallway. Niall sighs heavily, thinking of his last business trip and the four-star hotel he’d been put up in, before moving to shoo the cat out the door. 

He follows the cat down the staircase and stops in the front hall, belatedly realizing he has no idea where breakfast is served. 

“Good mo-orning,” a familiar voice behind him trills. 

It’s too early for this.

Niall subtly squares his shoulders and puts on his game face, lifting his eyebrows a centimeter and curling the corners of his mouth into just barely a smile, before turning.

“Morning, Harry,” he replies, his tone polite but not friendly. No need to pretend he’s interested in making friends. “Got here so late last night that I didn’t get the lay of the land. Where might one find breakfast? And coffee?”

“Right through here,” Harry chirps, gesturing for Niall to follow him down the hallway. 

Niall tunes out the steady stream of chatter as he takes in the family photos competing for space on the walls. It looks like Harry and Tomlinson – Louis, Niall corrects himself – have known each other their whole lives, from the playground to the prom to their wedding. There aren’t many professional photos, mostly candids of beaming smiles at the camera joined by a myriad of friends and family members. 

Niall pauses in front of a gold frame, considering the Christmas morning photo it contains. He suddenly has the most vivid memory of a guy he’d dated when he was younger and enjoyed waxing philosophic after a few too many whiskeys. Wren was Welsh and had keenly felt the effects of being such a long way from home. One night, he’d taught Niall the word  _ hiraeth. _ Niall can still clearly see in his mind the wisftful expression on Wren’s face as he had explained that, although it was hard to translate exactly, it meant a homesickness for a home you cannot return to or a home that never was. 

Niall rubs a hand over the back of neck. Christ, he hasn’t thought about that in years. What’s gotten into him?

“Just over here, Niall!” Harry calls from the room at the end of the hall. Niall clears his throat and hastens to join him. As he enters the large dining room, Harry continues, “We have gingerbread coffee at the station in the corner, or you can choose from the tea selection! Or juice, if you’re off caffeine? And on the menu today, egg white omelettes with sliced peppers – can I get one for you? Breakfast, it’s the most important meal of the day!”

No, none of this is going to work.  _ Gingerbread _ coffee? Absolutely not, Niall has too much respect for himself, thank you very much. He’s not much for tea either, although he is definitely  _ not _ off caffeine. And there’s no way he can trade his usual bagel for an omelette guaranteed to bother his acid reflux. No. 

“Did you mention there was a bakery in town?” Niall asks, trying to mask his distaste for Harry’s offering. “Think I might just go grab something, that’s what I do most mornings.”

“Oh… if you’re sure?” Harry’s face falls momentarily, but Niall nods, willing himself not to cave and drink  _ gingerbread _ coffee no matter how kind his host is. “Yes, the bakery, it’s really close, actually you and Louis must have passed it on your way here from the station last night. You just head right on Main Street, it’ll only take a few minutes walking.” 

“Thanks, Harry,” Niall replies, looking over his shoulder at the front door. “Much appreciated.”

“I’d offer to drive you,” Harry says regretfully, “even though it really is only a few minutes, but the Gouldings will probably be down for breakfast any second and I’m expecting the Smiths for an early check-in soon. And Louis could take you but you’d have to wait, he only wakes up five minutes before he has to be at the high school at 8:00, did he tell you, he teaches drama there–”

“You’re too kind,” Niall interrupts firmly, pulling his overcoat on. “Really, I don’t mind. I’ll be off and then if all goes well, I’ll be back to pick up my things and be out of your hair before dinner.”

“Good luck,” Harry says brightly. He turns to fuss with a stack of napkins before muttering, “You might need it.”

Niall pauses, considering asking Harry what he means, but his stomach is going to start growling if he doesn’t get a bagel soon, and some actual coffee will help clear his mind anyway. He’s just here to do a job, luck has nothing to do with it.

“Thanks,” he says with a small wave, turning and striding back down the hallway, eyes determinedly on the front door. 

The brisk air greets him, a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside. Grateful for his warm coat but wishing he’d added his scarf, Niall walks down the street full of large, cozy-looking homes. He begrudgingly admits to himself that it’s kind of nice to see variety in the styles of houses as he makes his way to the corner and turns right. When he does get invitations out to the suburbs from coworkers and clients, it’s always to subdivisions of identical mini mansions, all with the same basic layout. 

Niall spots the sign for the bakery just up ahead and breathes a sigh of relief. Until he notices the line of people out the door extending past the next storefront. 

Seriously? Is everyone who lives in town currently standing in this line? 

He doesn’t have much choice, it’s either wait in line or return to Harry with his tail between his legs, so Niall walks up to find a place at the end of the line, squeezing in just before an unnecessarily tall guy with unnecessarily tall brunette hair queues up behind him.

“Oh, hey,” the guys says conversationally, tapping Niall on the shoulder to get his attention. “You’re the big city lawyer staying at the B&B, aren't you?”

“You've heard of me?” Niall asks, turning slightly to size the guy up. 

“Everyone has,” the guy shrugs, unabashed. “News travels fast in a small town like this.” 

“Of course,” Niall grimaces. Small towns. He should have expected this.

“I’m Nick Grimshaw.” He holds out a gloved hand for Niall to shake. “You can call me Grimmy if you want, everyone else does.”

“Niall Horan,” Niall nods, turning fully to shake Grimmy's proffered hand. 

“Nice coat,” Grimmy remarks, looking him up and down. “Burberry?”

“Yeah,” Niall responds, unable to keep the surprise off his face. “How’d you know?”

“I live in Ivy Hollow,” Grimmy answers witheringly, “not under a rock.”

Niall smiles apologetically and casts about for something to say to smooth things over, dreading the long wait even more than he was before.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Grimmy offers, jutting his chin toward the front of the line. Niall moves to inch along behind the people in front of them. Grimmy laughs at the despair on Niall's face, clapping his back as he reassures him, “It won’t take as long as it looks. They sell mince pies during lead-up to Christmas and if you don’t go right when they open, you miss out for the day. That’s what most of the people in line are here for, those people are quick in and out.”

Niall hums noncommittally. People in this town sure are chatty. And morning people, apparently. 

“Say, can I ask you something?” Grimmy says suddenly, reaching to grab some papers from his messenger bag. On closer look, it seems more like a purse to Niall, but that's neither here nor there. “I have to sign my contract for next year, I work at the local radio station affiliate, and there’s one clause that wasn’t in it last year that I don’t completely understand–”

“I don’t practice that kind of law,” Niall says automatically. “I can give you a few names of guys at my firm if you want to contact one of them.”

“Fair enough,” Grimmy says breezily, putting the papers haphazardly back in his bag. “Worth a try. Probably can’t afford anyone at your firm, though, I’ll just try to Google it.”

Niall feels a pang of regret at that, but he’s not here to offer free legal advice to strangers in the bakery line, no matter how nice they are. He inches forward with the line again, noticing a bright-eyed blonde woman making a beeline for them, a paper bag with the bakery logo in hand.

“Nicholas,” she nods, flicking a glance over at Niall. “Mr. Horan.”

Niall blanches. News really does travel fast around here.

“Candace,” Grimmy replies, matching her sickeningly sweet inflection perfectly.

“Interesting show yesterday,” she comments, arching a perfectly manicured brow. “Do you really think that little stunt was appropriate for your younger listeners?”

“Yes,” Grimmy replies through gritted teeth. “Actually, I do. Quite educational programming, don't you think?”

Candace sniffs and turns to flounce off down the street. Grimmy rolls his eyes. 

“She seems a bit…” Niall flounders for the right word. “Tightly wound.”

“Candace Cameron Bure, town busybody,” Grimmy informs Niall as they approach the bakery door. “A real Make Ivy Hollow Great Again type. The show she was referring to, my friend, she does the slot after me, she had me try on tights as part of this running gag from the day before.”

Grimmy fishes his phone out of his pocket and holds it up to show Niall a photo of him in a studio posing in a plain t-shirt with his surprisingly shapely legs encased in red fishnet stockings. 

“That's hardly scandalous,” Niall comments, warming up to the chatty stranger in spite of himself. “Bit tame, if you ask me.”

“Thank you! And I look hot,” Grimmy exclaims, tapping at his phone. “Couldn't do it regularly, though, they were so… constricting, shall we say.” He looks up, pocketing his phone. “Okay, I've posted that on Instagram. I feel like she's been looking for a reason to block me, maybe this can be it.”

Niall peers down the street and whistles when he sees Candace climb into a brand-new, shiny black Land Rover. He looks back to Grimmy.

“I know the type,” he remarks. “Can't stand people like that. Great car, though.”

“Oh, yeah, and of course she’s loaded, too,” Grimmy says, rolling his eyes. “God, I would make such a better rich person than her, you have no idea.”

Niall nods as they finally make their way inside the bakery. The line winds along the wall to the right, ending at a counter at the front of the cozy room flanked by two long glass cases full of pastries. Niall cranes his neck to see where the bagels are as Grimmy chatters behind him about wildly expensive skin care treatments involving freezing for some reason. 

Isn't it cold enough outside already? 

There are too many customers bustling about, all unusually cheerful for the early hour in his opinion, for Niall to get a good look in the glass cases so he glances around to scout which of the dozen or so small tables he should claim once he has his bagel and coffee. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees a small sign with the Wi-Fi password; he prefers a hard copy of the city newspaper, but he can make do with his laptop for one morning, hiding out here with his breakfast before he gets the firm's paperwork signed and is on his merry way out of this town. 

Just as Niall's gaze lands on a door that must lead to the kitchen or a back room, a man about his own age clad in a green apron glides through it with a tray of muffins. It's a good thing that the line isn't moving at that exact moment, because Niall is stopped dead in his tracks, caught off guard by the man's classic, old Hollywood kind of good looks, which on second look Niall thinks he might not have fully grown into yet. Niall can't help admiring his large, expressive features as he greets a customer up front. He's gangly but not ungraceful as he winds his way around his busy coworkers behind the counter. His wide smile is bright enough to light up the whole room. Then he sets his tray down and takes off his plastic gloves, running a hand through his dark, fluffy hair as he looks up, meeting Niall's gaze.

There's a noise behind him that Niall registers after a moment as a laugh covered by a cough and he snaps out of his temporary daze, hastening to step forward to close the gap in the line that had opened up while he’d been openly ogling the waitstaff. 

For the second time this morning, Niall finds himself wondering what's gotten into him. The sooner he gets this assignment done and is on the train home, the better.

“Cute, right?” Grimmy asks in an exaggerated whisper, poking Niall's rib. “I mean, not for me, I have a boyfriend, he's a  _ dancer, _ bit more compact than–”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Niall says over his shoulder, willing Grimmy to shut up at they approach the front of the line, where the (yes, very cute) guy is now taking orders.

“Sure,” Grimmy shrugs with a smirk. “Whatever you say.”

Niall scans the menu board on the wall now that he's close enough to read it, determinedly not watching the cute guy talk and laugh with the woman in front of him in line. The list of specialty coffee drinks is a pleasant surprise; Niall had been afraid to let his hopes for a decent cup get too high after seeing what was on offer back at the B&B. He's just realizing that he can't find bagels anywhere on the board when the woman in front of him steps away with a paper bag in hand. He looks over to the cash register and sees the cute guy watching him expectantly. 

“Hi,” he says with a grin, glancing behind Niall. “Oh, hey Grimmy.”

“Shawn, my good man,” Grimmy says, clapping Niall's back. “Have you met Niall Horan, Esquire? Big city lawyer, temporary resident of the B&B, and my new bestie.”

“Oh, right, I heard about you,” Shawn says, looking back to Niall. “You’re in town to see Liam.”

“Uh, right,” Niall coughs, fumbling for his wallet so he doesn’t stare. “Liam Payne. Over at the Christmas tree farm. Just need to get some papers signed.”

Niall looks up in time to see Shawn and Grimmy exchange a wordless glance. 

“Yeah,” Shawn says, his tone agreeable but refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, that’s what I heard. Anyway, what can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a cappuccino,” Niall replies uneasily. Why is everyone so being cryptic about this Liam Payne? It’s just a simple contract, Niall will be in and out of the farmhouse in no time. “And I don’t see bagels on the menu? I’d like a plain one, toasted, with plain cream cheese.”

“Oh, sorry, we don’t sell bagels,” Shawn says, looking up finally with a blush dusting his cheeks. Niall spots a small scar on the side of his face and gets lost for a second wondering how he got it before he realizes what Shawn said.

“You don’t sell bagels?” he says, not bothering to hold back his accusatory tone. “How do you not sell  _ bagels? _ Am I in the right place? Is this not a bakery?”

He looks around the shop, as if to actually check whether he’s in the right place or not, and Shawn’s blush deepens but his smile doesn’t waver.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry,” he says, running his hand through his (presumably soft) hair again. “It’s just no one really buys them, so it’s not worth it for us, you know?”

“Are you telling me no one in this town eats bagels?” Niall asks in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“I’d say try the diner,” Grimmy pipes up from behind him, “but I don’t think they have them on the menu either.”

“Nah, I don’t think they do,” Shawn says apologetically, as if the selection at another establishment he doesn’t work for is his fault. “I can definitely hook you up with that cappuccino, though, Khalid makes a mean one, and how about a muffin on me?”

Niall meets Shawn’s gaze and gets lost for a moment in his warm, brown eyes. He’s being so rude, why is this guy being so kind to him? Shawn lifts his eyebrows at Niall, clearly but patiently waiting for a response, and Niall clears his throat. 

“If that’s the best you can do,” he sighs, pulling his card out of his wallet and handing it over to pay for his coffee.

“Ah the life of a long-suffering big city lawyer,” Grimmy rhapsodizes. “Having to go a day without his plain bagel…”

“Don’t make fun of him,” Shawn protests, handing Niall’s card and receipt to him. He looks at Niall from under his thick lashes. “He just knows what he likes.”

Niall’s mouth is suddenly too dry to say anything so he just nods and points awkwardly to the sign past the pastry case that says  _ pick up _ and walks down to wait for his coffee. He stands stiffly as he waits, feeling most of the eyes in the shop on him. It seems like ages, but it’s probably only a couple of minutes until a friendly-looking guy pushes over a paper cup of coffee with a smile. Niall nods and turns, scanning the room for an empty table.

Luckily there’s a table open in the corner, so Niall makes a beeline for it. He’s just gotten settled, coat on the opposite chair, briefcase on the ground, laptop humming to life in front of him, when Shawn approaches shyly, holding a small plate. 

“You forgot your muffin,” he says softly, setting the plate down. “Blueberry. From a batch I made myself this morning, hope you like it.”

He shrugs and turns to walk back behind the counter without waiting for answer. Something twists in Niall’s stomach and, as he watches Shawn go, he realizes it’s not hunger.

*

Breakfast had been awkward, to say the least. Niall couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on him, a pair of warm brown ones in particular, as he stared at his laptop, trying and failing to absorb any of the city news articles he’d pulled up. He’d only managed a few bites of the muffin, it was just too sweet for his tastes, but he’d enjoyed the strong, dry cappuccino more than he had expected to, this Khalid does indeed make a mean one. After he’s finished, he clears his own table and ducks out when he spots Shawn disappearing behind that door behind the counter.

Squaring his shoulders as he strides down the sidewalk, Niall tells himself he’s not a coward. It just wasn’t worth making a big deal out of. So a cute boy had bought him breakfast. It didn’t matter, Niall would only be here for a few more hours anyway. He slows to a stop at the taxi stand down the street, but it’s deserted. Looking around helplessly, Niall’s surprised there aren’t tumbleweeds rolling down the street.

Great. Now how is he supposed to get to this Christmas tree farm? According to his notes from Hailee, it’s a couple of miles out of town and he’s not about to trek through the cold. Not in these shoes.

“Hey, man.” A skinny, sharp-featured and frankly beautiful man tosses a cigarette butt on the sidewalk in front of a pickup truck parked behind the taxi stand. He looks at Niall appraisingly. “You lost?”

“Just need to find a way to the Payne Christmas tree farm,” Niall explains, pulling the collar of his coat closer around his neck. He really should have worn his scarf this morning.

“You Horan?” the guy asks skeptically. “That lawyer?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Niall laughs mirthlessly. “Horan the lawyer.”

“Get in,” the guy says, jerking his chin toward the truck. “I can take you.”

Only about 85% sure he’s about to be murdered and preferring that fate to the one with gingerbread coffee that surely awaits him back at the B&B, Niall nods in thanks and climbs in the passenger side as the guy gets in on the other side.

He starts up the truck and immediately jabs a finger to turn the radio off as a Christmas song starts to blare out of it.

“My sister must have driven it last,” the guy says gruffly as he pulls into gear. “She doesn’t mind that crap.”

Niall sits back, marveling at his luck in finding a like-minded soul in this town. Even if he is probably about to be murdered.

“I’m Zayn,” the guy introduces himself off-handedly, like he’s just remembered that he hasn’t yet. “Liam’s my best friend, I was headed out to see him today anyway.”

“Thank you, Zayn,” Niall replies, relief washing over him as his odds of being murdered drop. “I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Zayn says, cracking his first smile in their short acquaintance. 

Fortunately for Niall, Zayn doesn’t seem to require much in the way of response or small talk, so they get through the rest of the drive in a comfortable silence. It’s a welcome but brief respite; before Niall knows it, Zayn is turning down on a country road and the vast green of the farm appears ahead. It’s really something, although you won’t catch Niall admitting that out loud anytime soon.

“Ready?” Zayn asks with a wry smile after pulling into the driveway and parking the car in front of a large red barn. “Liam’s most likely in here at this time of day.”

“Ready,” Niall says grimly. And he’s definitely well prepared, has everything he’s going to need, but the repeated clues that this assignment might not be as easy to complete as he originally thought are finally cracking his confident exterior. 

He follows Zayn into the barn, which has been converted into a gift store with a hot chocolate stand. It’s pretty clever actually; it seems like the kind of place customers might seek out even if they’re not actually buying a tree. Niall wonders if this Liam has thought to arrange for a Santa on the weekends, or–

“Bro,” Zayn calls out suddenly next to him. “Leeyum, where you hiding? I brought a guest.”

A cheerful-looking, broad, muscular man  _ (Okay, what do they put in the water in this town?) _ with brown hair and a beard appears from behind a taller shelf to the side of the shop. He looks every inch what a Christmas tree farmer would be like if Niall had to conjure one up in his sturdy brown boots, jeans and red plaid flannel. All he’s missing is a Santa hat.

“Hey, bro, good to see you,” the guy who Niall takes to be Liam says he gives Zayn a one-armed hug. Stepping back, he smiles at Niall and holds out a hand to shake. “Welcome.”

“Liam Payne?” Niall asks as he shakes the man’s hand, watching as his expression hardens slightly. “My name is Niall Horan and I’m with the firm Turner, Pearlman, Turner, Winston & Denton, representing Si–”

“No,” Liam interrupts him, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. “No, thank you, I’m not interested.”

“But you haven’t even heard what I have to say,” Niall says smoothly, drawing on years of dealing with difficult clients, albeit usually ones in business attire at their offices. “Why don’t we sit down and I can–”

“Not interested,” Liam clips as Zayn tries to hide a smile behind his hand. Glad someone’s enjoying this, because Niall certainly isn’t. “Good day.”

“Please, Mr. Payne,” Niall tries again, “if we could just–” 

“If you want to buy a tree, I can have someone show you around outside,” Liam says firmly. “Otherwise, I’m afraid we’re done here. I don’t care what you have to say, this whole deal feels off, I don’t trust Simon Cowell or anyone at your firm, and I’m not signing anything.”

And with that he just walks away, leaving Niall speechless in the middle of this cheery gift shop.

“Sorry, man,” Zayn says, patting Niall’s back. “Listen, I’m gonna be here for awhile, Li lets me pick up a shift every now and then for extra cash, so if you’re still here when I’m done, then I can give you a ride back to town, but…”

Niall scrubs a hand over his face as he absorbs that bit of information.

“Right, thanks,” he says after a moment. “No worries, really. Thanks for the ride here.”

“Later.”

And with that Zayn is gone too.

Niall pulls his phone out and calls Hailee as he walks out of the barn. As soon as the call connects, he says, “This is going to take longer than we thought.”

*

It takes over an hour for Niall to trudge through the elements back to the B&B. He steps wearily up onto the porch and through the front door, a bell above it announcing his presence.

“Welcome back!” Harry’s voice calls from the sitting room to the right. “How did it go?”

Niall walks into the sitting room and falls onto the nearest couch. A cat, an orange one this time, immediately jumps into his lap and starts nosing at his hand to pet it.

“I suspect you know exactly how it went, Harry,” he says, narrowing his eyes at his host. 

“Yeah,” Harry says, looking down at the knitting in his lap instead of meeting Niall’s gaze. “Hailee already called to arrange to extend your stay.”

“You already knew this morning, though,” Niall retorts, running his hands through his hair instead of the cat’s fur. “How did you know?”

“Liam doesn’t have a lawyer to read the contracts,” Harry shrugs, clacking away with his knitting needles. “And our lawyer in town always used to say ‘don’t sign something you can’t understand,’ so…”

“That’s good advice, actually,” Niall concedes, his brain already trying to calculate how to use this information to his advantage. 

Just one more night, then he can catch a train back to the city. 

“So,” Harry says innocently, “how was the bakery?

“Why?” Niall demands, trying to ignore the cat head-butting him for attention. “What did you hear?”

“My friend Nick was in line behind you,” Harry explains with a gleam in his eye. “He was live texting your…  _ encounter _ with Shawn Mendes. Shawn is good looking! And so nice! We went to school together.”

“I’m sorry,” Niall says, holding up a finger. “He was  _ live texting _ you? My  _ encounter?” _

And here he’d thought he’d made, well not a friend, but a friendly acquaintance at least.

“You should go for it!” Harry says, dropping his needles and clapping his hands together. “Ask him to dinner! An early dinner, since he’s a baker, he has to get up so early, I could never do it, I’m not as bad as Louis in the morning, obviously, but that’s why I bake just as a hobby and never–”

“I’m not asking him to dinner,” Niall practically shouts, scaring the cat enough to jump off his lap. He takes a deep breath and says more calmly, “I’m not asking him to dinner. We didn’t have an  _ encounter, _ I just bought a coffee from him, okay?”

“And he gave you a muffin on the house, right?” Harry asks, his gaze at Niall turning intense. He shivers, thinking how he’d hate to face a line of questioning from Harry from the witness stand. “You know, Shawn’s nice, but he’s not stupid, he doesn’t just give away free muffins all the time, that comes out of his profits.”

“His profits?” Niall asks, momentarily distracted from building his defense case against Harry. “What do you mean, does he own the bakery?”

“For someone who didn’t have an ‘encounter,’ you sure seem interested,” Harry says, tapping his chin with a finger.  _ “Hm, _ I wonder why that would be.”

“Alright, I’ll be upstairs in my room,” Niall says, standing and brushing fur off his coat. Hailee had promised to send him a rundown of work he could do remotely and he plans on tackling it as soon as he’s had a hot shower.

“No, wait! Please, Niall,” Harry calls after him as he walks out of the room. “Come on, I can tell you the best places to take Shawn out to dinner! Early dinner, remember!”

Harry’s pleas fade as Niall makes his way up the stairs. Just one more night.

Niall can do one more night.

**December 19**

A light scratching sound interrupts Niall as he packs his briefcase and mentally rehearses how he’ll approach Liam Payne today.  _ (“Mr. Payne, Liam – can I call you Liam? I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday…”) _ He looks around the bright red room but doesn’t locate the source of the sound until his eyes fall to the floor, where two paws are currently poking in underneath the door from the hallway.

Niall shakes his head, wondering if it’s the tabby or the orange cat. At least neither had managed to sneak in during the night. 

The very long night. Niall had tossed and turned, his longing for the low hum of the city accompanied by a dull ache in his bad knee after the trek back to the B&B yesterday. He hadn’t packed ibuprofen, not thinking he’d need any for such a short trip, and didn’t know exactly how to holler for Harry, as he’d put it the other night. Not that Niall would have anyway, he’s been avoiding his host ever since that absurd suggestion about inviting Shawn to dinner. 

Niall harrumphs to himself as he gathers his things and heads toward the door. Even if he had wanted to ask Shawn out to dinner, what would have been the point? Last night was his last night in Ivy Hollow, he’ll be on the train back to the city this afternoon once he gets Liam Payne to see reason and his paperwork is signed. 

It was an absurd suggestion.

He pulls the door handle and the door swings open to reveal a small black and white cat looking up innocently at Niall, as though it hadn’t been trying to break into his room. Niall closes the door swiftly behind him so the cat can’t get in and crouches to look him (her?) in the eye.

“Not today, Satan,” he says, pointing a finger at the cat. Unimpressed, the cat leans in and sniffs at his finger.  

“Oh, no, Niall!” Niall jumps as Harry’s concerned voice travels down the hall. “Her name is  _ Santa, _ is there a typo on her tag? Let me see!” 

He practically pushes Niall out of the way to get to the cat, who’s now purring seductively at Harry as if to thank him for protecting her against Niall when  _ she _ was the one trying to get into  _ his _ room.

Niall stands slowly, mindful of his knee, and shakes his head. He’s in a tacit argument with a cat. What is this town doing to him?

“Think I just read it wrong, Harry,” Niall lies through his teeth. “The tag does say Santa, doesn’t it? That was silly of me.”

“That’s a relief!” Harry giggles, picking the cat up and cradling her to his neck. “Can you imagine?”

“Yes, can you imagine?” Louis says drily from the other end of the hall. Niall manages not to jump this time, but it’s a close thing. He forces a smile as the cat shoots him a dirty look. He swears it, she  _ does. _

“I’m just on my way out,” Niall says with the congenial fake laugh he’s perfected after years at the firm. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“And where are you off to?” Harry asks, every word dripping with innuendo. He winks at his husband, clearly mouthing, “I told you so.”

“Alright, leave him alone, Harold,” Louis says good-naturedly. “Come on, I can give you a ride, I’m just on my way out, too.”

“Yes, thanks!” Niall rushes to reply, relieved that Louis is saving him. At least one half of this couple isn’t hell bent on matchmaking.

“Well, he does pass  _ the bakery _ on his way to work, Niall,” Harry pouts, stroking the cat’s head absent-mindedly. “So it’s very convenient for everyone, isn’t it?”

“Bye, Harold, I love you,” Louis calls over his shoulder, beckoning for Niall to follow him down the staircase. “See you tonight, love.”

Niall follows Louis down the stairs and out of the house, climbing into the passenger side of the Jeep as Louis gets settled behind the wheel.

“So,” Louis says as he starts up the car. “The bakery then?”

He looks over at Niall with twinkling eyes and a shit-eating grin. Maybe both halves of this couple are matchmakers after all. Oh, well, it’s a short drive; it’s not worth protesting. 

Much.

“The bakery,” he concedes. “But just for breakfast, not for… whatever you’re implying.”

“Shawn’s a good guy,” Louis remarks, his eyes on the road. “We went to school together.”

“I imagine this entire town went to school together,” Niall grumbles, mostly to himself.

“Pretty much,” Louis replies, not sounding bothered in the least. “I like it myself, I like knowing the people around me, although I know small towns aren’t for everyone. I have a younger sister, Fizzy, who’s dying to graduate and go to a big college, be anonymous for awhile. Good for her, not for me, you know?”

Niall hums in agreement, looking out the window and trying not to let his mind wander too much. This town is getting under his skin somehow; the sooner he wraps up his business and gets out of here, the better.

“Here we go,” Louis says, pulling up in front of the bakery. “And look at that, you missed the mince pie line.”

“Thanks, Louis,” Niall says, unbuckling his seat belt and picking up his briefcase from the floor. “Appreciate it.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Louis calls after him as Niall shuts the door. He’s tempted to turn and flick him off, sure he’d get a laugh in return, but it’s just as well he doesn’t encourage these people to think he wants to actually be friends.

He trudges into the bakery, well aware that convincing Harry or Louis that he doesn’t have a crush on Shawn is a lost cause and determined to get another cappuccino to start his day with. After all, it’s his last chance before leaving this infernal town and getting back to the expensive coffee machine at the office.

There’s a short line up front, nothing like yesterday, and Niall decides to claim a table before joining it, setting his briefcase on the one in the corner he’d sat at before and hanging his overcoat on the back of the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Khalid behind the counter giving him a huge smile. He smiles back instinctively as Khalid taps the door to the back before busying himself at the espresso machine. Hm, that’s–

Shawn bursts through the door, running a hand through his soft curls, and when he finds Niall in the small crowd, he gives him a sheepish smile. 

Oh.

Well, that… Niall’s flattered, obviously, but that… it doesn’t  _ change _ anything. He’s tempted to stare down at his ruined shoes as he shuffles forward in line (he’ll have to toss them when he gets back to the city but they’ll do for another day in Ivy Hollow), but he forces himself to hold his head high. He’s just here for a coffee and maybe something edible if Shawn can rustle something up. That smile doesn’t change anything.  

It doesn’t.

“Hey,” Shawn greets him breathlessly. “I was hoping you’d be back. You must have liked the muffin?”

“Oh, um, actually,” Niall starts, flustered in the face of Shawn’s puppy dog enthusiasm. He wants to keep him at arm’s length but it feels impossible without being a dick, which Shawn doesn’t deserve. “It was a little sweet. You were right about the coffee, though, that was a mean cappuccino.”

Khalid does a little fist pump from where he’s working down the counter and Niall and Shawn laugh, breaking the tension of the moment. 

The completely unnecessary tension.

“Okay, we’ll do a cappuccino for you,” Shawn murmurs as he punches the keys of the cash register. He cranes his neck to look at one of the glass cases from behind the counter. “And, let’s see... what about a cranberry orange scone? The tartness of the cranberry should cut the sweetness a little, yeah?”

“Sounds like a great combination,” a voice chimes in from behind Niall. 

Niall jumps in spite of himself  _ (What is  _ wrong _ with the people in this town?) _ and turns to see Grimmy grinning behind him in line. 

“Yeah, sure,” Niall says, in a rush to gloss over the innuendo. He turns back to face Shawn and pulls out his wallet, handing over his card. “Sounds great.”

“Tart and sweet,” Grimmy’s voice muses from behind him. “Unbeatable combination, really, no wonder you’re up for it, Niall.”

Shawn’s face is beet red as he hands Niall his card and receipt, and Niall fights the urge to do something stupid like wink reassuringly at him. He waits this time for Shawn to get the scone, not wanting a repeat from yesterday of Shawn walking over to his table, purposefully staring straight ahead and ignoring Grimmy’s snickers.

“Here you go,” Shawn says quietly, pushing the plate across the counter. “Hope you like it.”

Niall nods a silent thank you and walks down to pick up the coffee that Khalid has ready and waiting for him. 

“You going to the Christmas fair, man?” Khalid asks, loud enough for the whole bakery to hear. “All work and no play makes lawyers dull, am I right?”

“That’d be a good opportunity to have another run at Liam, actually,” Grimmy remarks as he walks over. “He’ll be there with his trees and hot chocolate.”

“Christmas fair?” Niall asks, his interest piquing at that bit of information. 

“Yeah, man,” Khalid agrees, nodding at Grimmy. “Corner Liam there, he’ll have to hear you out.”

Ignoring for the moment how everyone in town seems to know exactly how his first attempt at talking with Liam Payne went, Niall considers it. He’s on Liam’s home turf, there’s no way around that, but if this fair is in town, that might help his odds of cornering him, as Khalid put it.

“Thanks, think I will actually,” Niall replies, nodding at both of them. They mimic his nod back at him and laugh. Hmph. Niall didn’t think he was being that stuffy, but whatever. It’s not like he needs these people to like him, he’s only here for the day.

He heads over to his table to get situated, placing his cup on the right side of the table and the plate on the left. He takes the laptop out of his briefcase and puts it in between the coffee and scone, letting it boot up as he moves the briefcase to the floor. As he straightens up in his seat, Grimmy plops down in the chair across from him with a grin.

“Hiya,” he says cheerfully, setting his own cup on the table. “Have a few minutes, thought I’d keep you company.”

“Hiya,” Niall repeats less cheerfully. He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s this I hear about you texting Harry while we were in line yesterday?”

“Oh, he told you, did he?” Grimmy says brightly. “I knew he would, so predictable, our Harold. Yeah, I pulled my phone out when you started drooling over young Shawn there, and the pair of you flirting did not disappoint, it was hilarious.”

“We were not,” Niall says forcefully before noticing a couple of heads turn in his direction. He drops his voice, “We were not  _ flirting, _ okay? I was just ordering breakfast.”

“Mm, right,” Grimmy nods. “Breakfast, you old tart.”

“Bye, Grimmy,” Niall says pointedly.

“Bye, Niall,” Grimmy laughs. “I’ve got to be off anyway, I’m DJing the fair so I have to help with setup. Just walk along Main Street, the fair will find you.”

Niall waves dismissively and turns back to his breakfast and his laptop, and hopefully peace and quiet.

*

The morning passes quickly and mostly quietly aside from a guy with greasy hair who introduced himself as Justin and tried to engage Niall in a conversation about prenups when he went to order a second cappuccino. Niall refused to let himself wonder why Justin would need a prenup (from the looks of it, all he had to his name was the ratty sweatshirt on his back), concentrating on getting his billable hours in from the corner of the bakery. He touches base with Hailee to make sure things are running smoothly back at the office and that Winston isn’t storming the halls demanding Niall’s head. 

She assures him Winston isn’t on the warpath, at least not yet, since he’s been pulled into some fire drill on the Corden deal. Niall knows better than to be relieved at the news; this assignment was only supposed to take one day, and he’s sure his grace period will run out soon.

He has to close this deal.  

As Niall packs up his things and clears his table, he goes over his planned approach for Liam Payne one more time in his head and hopes this Christmas fair is a success. He’s just made it to the door when a familiar breathless voice behind him calls out, “Hey, wait up!” Niall’s shoulders sag.

So close.

He turns to see Shawn jogging up to him. He’s exchanged his apron for a yellow plaid sheepskin coat and he’s smiling because of course he is, the lush pink lips that Niall has done his best to ignore stretched wide across his face, the bottom lip slightly fuller in an almost feminine way yet looking right at home above his classically masculine jawline.

Not that it matters. He’s on his way to get the firm’s paperwork signed and then he’ll be on the next train. Shawn will meet someone, someone as nice he is, and Niall will make partner back in the city. Just as he’s planned. 

“You heading to the fair?” Shawn asks, running a hand through his hair. Niall wishes he would stop doing that, it’s distracting. “Me too, I’ll walk over with you.”

“Right, you can help me find Liam Payne,” Niall says, holding the door open for Shawn. Liam Payne, that’s who he’s here for, regardless of the… distractions.

“Oh, yeah,” Shawn says, looking ahead down the street as they fall into step. “Right, Liam’ll be there. He always sets up down at the end of Main, I can show you after I swing by the bakery’s booth and check in.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I’m sure I can find–”

“It’ll only take a minute,” Shawn interrupts him with a side glance, the closest to rolling his eyes that Niall’s seen yet. He’s almost impressed. “C’mon, you gotta relax. Smell the roses and all that.”

“May I remind you, Shawn, it is December?” Niall says mock seriously, aware that he’s dangerously close to the line of flirting without even trying, but finding it difficult to stop. “Where exactly are these roses I’m supposed to smell?”

“No roses here, I’m afraid, but how about some mistletoe?” 

Niall turns his head in the direction of the voice and sees a pretty blond woman with delicate features in a bright pink coat surrounded by seasonal floral arrangements smiling at them.

“Hey, Rita,” Shawn calls out, leaning around Niall to wave. “Nah, not for this one, think he’s a Grinch.”

“Boo!” Rita frowns, wagging a finger at Niall. “Aren’t lawyers allowed to have any fun?”

Oh, for Christ’s sake.

“Just have a job to do,” Niall replies politely, through only slightly clenched teeth. He nods and starts walking, not waiting for Shawn who catches up easily with those long legs of his.

Not that Niall’s, like, thought about it or anything. He’s only human, of course he’s going to notice that the extremely kind, decent human being accompanying him has stupidly long legs. Shawn’s practically towering over Niall’s perfectly average frame, how could he  _ not _ notice?

“Our booth is just up ahead,” Shawn informs him, pointing. A tall girl with broad shoulders and brown hair cut in a bob spots them and starts jumping up and down, waving. Shawn laughs, “That’s my best friend, Teddy. She works afternoons, so you wouldn’t have met her yet.”

Despite Niall’s current mood, he has to admit to himself that the girl’s enthusiasm is contagious, even from afar. He gives her a small wave as they approach the booth and she beams back at him. 

“Hello, gorgeous!” she calls out, hands on her hips and looking Niall up and down. She turns to Shawn, remarking, “You were right, he is–”

“How’s it going, Teddy?” Shawn interrupts her, his cheeks red. Niall suspects it’s not from the cold, considering that the organizers have set up heat lamps intermittently along the street. 

“It’s going great!” she exclaims, waving her hand around the small booth. “The mince pies are already gone, everyone’s snapping up the ginger snaps, and I’ve sold a bunch of gift certificates. You’re officially a genius for choosing this spot so close to the square.”

“Okay, cool,” Shawn nods, assessing the display. “Just text me if you want me to run anything out to you, okay? And you’ll get a break in about an hour, Khalid said he’d cover you after his shift at the store is done.”

“Where are you running off to so quickly?” she demands, narrowing her eyes at the pair of them. “Off to find some mistle–”

“Bye, Teddy,” Shawn says loudly, tugging at Niall’s arm. “Just gonna show Niall where the Payne booth is.”

“Oh, good luck with that!” she calls after them. “You’re gonna need it!”

Niall lets Shawn tug him along the sidewalk for a moment, looking at him appraisingly.

“So,” he starts, once they’re out of Teddy’s earshot and Shawn’s pace has slowed, “you seem to have a good head for business.”

Shawn smiles wryly at that, shaking his head and looking over at Niall. “Surprised, are you?”

“No, no,” Niall protests. “I–”

“You probably thought I just worked the counter, huh?” Shawn asks ruefully. He runs his hand through his shiny hair. Again. “Just some kid, right?”

“Hey,” Niall says, poking at Shawn’s arm to get him to look at him. He doesn’t. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay,” Shawn says, more politely than kindly. “My parents have owned the place my whole life, I grew up there, so I’m used to people looking at me like a kid. But I went to culinary school, I’ve been working my butt off, and last year they let me buy into the business. I’m going to take it over completely one day.”

Niall struggles to find an appropriate reply, the disappointment on Shawn’s face tugging at his heart more than he would have expected. It would have been easier if Shawn had gotten mad at him for underestimating him. Disappointment is so much worse.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice booms out. “What do we have here?”

“Hey, Harry,” Shawn says. Niall wonders if it’s obvious to everyone or just him that the cheerful tone is forced. “How’s it going, man?”

“Better now that I’m running into  _ you two,” _ Harry beams, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “Enjoying the fair, are you, Niall?”

“Hi, Harry,” Niall says, resigned to his fate. “Shawn was just about to show me where the Payne booth is set up, so I can talk to Liam about the paperwork.”

“Oh,” Harry frowns, looking for all the world like a disgruntled kitten. He crosses his arms over his chest. “You should take some time to just look around, though, just about all the local businesses have booths.”

“That’s right, Harry.” Candace, the tightly wound busybody, appears at Harry’s elbow to simper. “It’s just  _ such _ a  _ shame _ the old law building is empty and there’s nothing out front there.”

_ “Candace,” _ Shawn hisses. Niall about snaps his neck swiveling his head so suddenly to look at Shawn. If he hadn’t been there to hear him with his own two ears, Niall would never have believed Shawn could sound like that.

“It’s okay, Shawn,” Harry sighs. “Come on, Candace, I’m heading toward the library. You can walk with me if you want to talk.”

“Wonderful,” she replies, so chipper that Niall briefly wonders whether she’s on something, linking her arm through Harry’s and dragging him away.

“What was  _ that _ about?” Niall wonders aloud.

“Nevermind,” Shawn replies, watching them walk away for a moment before turning back to Niall. “I don’t like to gossip, but the less you have to do with her, the better.”

Niall fights the urge to question Shawn about that; it’s not like he’ll be here long enough for it to matter. But he can’t help wondering to himself what that loaded exchange meant. What context was he missing? Lost in thought, he follows Shawn blindly down the middle of the street, which has been closed to traffic. It takes some time since every other person stops them to say hello. Niall’s lost count of how many people wish him luck with Liam. 

“Shawnie!” a skinny woman with bleached hair and bright red lips squeals, drawing Shawn in for a hug. “How are you? Haven’t seen you in awhile, you need to stop in for a trim!”

And with that, the woman runs her fingers through Shawn’s locks, eyeing him critically. Niall presses his lips in a thin line, trying to ignore the rush of jealousy coursing through his body. He’s been distracted by Shawn’s own hand running through his hair a dozen times in the past two days and here’s some woman who feels entitled to just reach out and pet at him? 

How dare she?

“Hey, Lou,” Shawn says, completely unbothered by the woman’s talons in his hair. “I will, I promise, I just like it a little longer lately. Hey, have you met Niall Horan? He’s on his way to talk to Liam again.”

“Oh, right,” Lou says, looking over brightly at Niall. “Good luck with that, by the way! Say, while you’re here, I’m having trouble with this patent application, do you think–”

“I don’t practice that kind of law,” Niall says firmly. 

“Oh, fuck,” she says, looking back to Shawn. “Me and Sam are having the worst time with it, and Google is  _ no _ help.”

“You guys working on new products for the salon?” he asks, a light blush rising on his cheeks. Niall wonders if it’s because this Lou woman cursed. In spite of himself, the thought makes him smile. 

Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lou replies, typing away at a phone that Niall hadn’t noticed her pull out. “Sam’s going to kill me if we can’t make this happen, she really wants to expand and sell online by the end of next year.”

“I can give you a few names,” Niall offers, starting to waver.

“Nah, thanks though,” Lou says distractedly. “Doubt we can afford any of them. Listen, I’ll see you soon, alright, Shawn?”  

“Yeah, definitely!” Shawn calls after her as she walks away, eyes on her phone. He looks back over at Niall. “Lou and her sister Sam own the hair salon, see it’s just over there. They’ve been working really hard the past few years to launch their own products.”

“Ah,” Niall nods. Shawn doesn’t seem to be judging him, but he feels compelled to explain himself anyway. “I’m sure they’re lovely, I just don’t–”

“Practice that kind of law,” Shawn finishes for him. “I know. Lou will figure something out, she always does. Come on.”

They pass countless booths, a few carolers attempting to be heard over the Christmas music blaring from the town square, even some games. Everyone seems to know each other, nodding and smiling if not stopping for hugs. It’s festive and, Niall has to admit to himself, pretty nice actually. 

They’re almost to their destination, at the other end of the block with the Christmas tree booth, when Niall spots a sign welcome to his eyes.

“Ivy Hollow General Store,” he reads aloud. “Say, do you mind if I stop in there? I just need some ibuprofen.”

“Oh, it’s actually not–”

He doesn’t wait for Shawn to finish as he pulls the door handle to walk inside the store, the twinge in his bad knee suddenly bothering him now that he’s thought about it.

“–not that kind of general store,” Shawn finishes as he bumps into Niall where he stopped dead in his tracks just inside the doorway, taking in the store filled to the ceiling with all things Christmas. 

Twinkling lights line the edges of the ceiling, running down and along the shelves and counters. Santa figures ranging from life size down to Barbie doll size take up an entire wall. There are hundreds of Christmas ornaments in all shapes and colors displayed on the opposite wall. Wreaths, stockings, wrapping paper and ribbon, tinsel, more lights – everything you could think of to fill your home with holiday cheer fills the shelves. It’s been years since Christmas stirred any kind of happy feelings in Niall’s chest, but as he stands there taking it all in, his breath catches and he’s filled with awe.

Who could blame him? It’s kind of awesome. 

“Awesome, right?” 

Niall had almost forgotten Shawn was standing behind him, bearing witness to him losing it over some silly Christmas decorations. He clears his throat and opens his mouth to protest.

“Hey,” Shawn says quietly before Niall has a chance to speak. “Don’t. It’s awesome, okay?”

Taken aback, Niall blinks a few times. 

“Okay,” he whispers, looking around the store again. “Okay.”

“Come on,” Shawn says, turning toward the door. “I’ll walk you down to Liam’s booth and on the way back we can stop for ibuprofen.”

Niall falls into step with Shawn outside, a little shaken from his moment of vulnerability. Just what he needs before approaching Liam Payne.

“So, the General Store used to be more like a typical general store,” Shawn says conversationally as he leads the way down the street. “Like what you were expecting. My friend Justin, I think you met him back at the bakery?” Shawn looks over and Niall nods. “It’s been in his family for a hundred years or something like that.”

“Wow,” Niall murmurs, glancing back at the storefront over his shoulder.

“Cool, right?” Shawn glances over again before continuing, “So Justin’s grandpa was the one who changed it over to a year-round Christmas shop. He’d taken over running the store after he got back from serving overseas, where I guess he saw some bad stuff. And making a big deal over Christmas every year kind of helped distract him from all that. So he’d stock more and more Christmas stuff for longer periods of time until finally just changing it over to year round in, like, the late '60s, I think.” 

Shawn pauses as they weave around a few people blocking their path, smiling and nodding to them before continuing.

“Between him and the Paynes with the farm, they kind of gave this town a place on the map, you know? We get so much business this time of year, but really we're kind of an attraction all year. Something to be grateful for when other small towns kind of struggle to keep businesses going.”

They're approaching the Christmas tree booth as Shawn finishes his story, and Niall spots Zayn serving hot chocolate as Liam talks and laughs with a customer. On the one hand, Shawn's voice had the calming effect that Niall suspects he intended, but on the other hand, Niall feels a moment of doubt. Liam was so adamant about not signing the paperwork yesterday and now Niall might have a better understanding of why. He must feel a great sense of responsibility for this town.

Despite Niall’s best efforts, doubts that he could close this deal have crept in a couple times since he arrived. Now for the first time he wonders if he should.

“Hey, Liam! Zayn!” Shawn calls out with a wide smile. The two look over with open, happy expressions – until they see Niall. Zayn looks over to his best friend, while Liam crosses his arms over his broad, flannel-covered chest. Shawn pats Niall's shoulder. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hello, Zayn,” Niall nods before turning his attention to Liam. “Mr. Payne, Liam – can I call you Liam? I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”

“Alright, Mr. Horan,” Liam interrupts him. “I get it, you have a job to do.”

“Yes, exactly,” Niall replies, relief washing over him. “If I could just have a few minutes of your time–”

“Just a few minutes, Li,” Zayn chimes in, waving a hand at Niall.

“That's all he’s asking,” Shawn adds, squeezing Niall’s shoulder with the hand that’s still resting there. 

“Fine,” Liam says, throwing his hands up and cracking a smile. “But not here, I have business to conduct. If you're serious, you can come by the farm tomorrow morning. Say 11:00?”

“11:00,” Niall agrees immediately. “Yes, I can be there at 11:00 a.m. sharp.”

He reaches out a hand and Liam begrudgingly shakes it as Shawn and Zayn whoop and cheer.

“Since when are you guys on his side, anyway?” Liam grumbles good-naturedly. “Right, I'm getting back to work. See you tomorrow, Horan. 11:00 sharp.”

“I'll give you a ride out there,” Zayn offers. “From what I hear, I should just pick you up at the bakery, yeah?”

Niall's cheeks heat up and he can feel Shawn's eyes on him. But he knows when he's beat so he just shrugs.

“Yeah, I'll be there.”

**December 20**

“So it’s taking a lot longer than we thought, huh?”

“Yep, thanks, Hailee,” Niall replies, cradling his phone between his ear and shoulder as he tucks his scarf back into his coat collar. “Appreciate the reminder.”

“You sound like you’re in a wind tunnel,” she remarks. “I guess we’re lucky they even have cell service out there in the middle of nowhere.”

Niall bristles in spite of himself on Ivy Hollow’s behalf as he looks both ways and crosses Main Street. The town may be a fraction of the size of the city, but it’s not like they don’t have the basics, for Christ’s sake. Even the bakery has free Wi-Fi. Listening to his assistant, you’d think there was no running water or something.

“It’s just because I’m outside,” Niall informs her as he strides down the sidewalk. “It literally is just windy out, it’s December.”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Hailee replies. “Say, do you think every time a woman tells a man to calm down, an angel gets its wings?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Niall says distractedly, coming to a stop in front of the bakery. “Please, just finish up the rundown on my open cases so I can get some hours in today like I asked, okay?”

“Already sent, boss,” Hailee answers. “Text me when the Payne contract is signed and I’ll send you a confirmation for your ticket home.”

Niall would thank her, but she’s already hung up on him. He pockets his phone and steps into the bakery, grateful to have once again timed his visit after the mince pie rush. He claims his usual table and joins the short line, nodding to the faces he recognizes out front and behind the counter. No need to go crazy but he might as well be friendly; most of the people he’s met here are meddlesome and overly familiar, but he can tell they’re coming from a good place. 

“Hey,” Shawn greets him with a wide smile when he reaches the front of the line. “How’s the knee?”

“Oh,” Niall says in surprise, looking down at the knee in question. “Right, the ibuprofen helped. Thanks for helping me find it yesterday.” 

“No problem, I had a good time with you,” Shawn says, flipping his hair out of his face as he looks down at the register. “Like, at the fair. Okay, cappuccino… And you want something to eat, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, hesitating slightly. “But–”

“No worries, I could tell you weren’t that into the scone,” Shawn says, furrowing his brow at the menu board behind him. “Let’s see… okay, how about something a little savory?”

“Savory?” Niall asks, unable to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

Shawn looks back over to him with raised eyebrows. “Ham and cheese croissant? Takes a few minutes to make, but it’s worth it for the melted cheese, don’t you think?”

  
“Would it kill you to serve bagels?” Niall grumbles as he reaches for his wallet and hands his card over. “But yeah, that sounds kind of good, I guess. I’ll try it.”

“Alright,” Shawn smiles, taking care of the transaction before handing Niall his card and a receipt. “See, I’ll figure you out one of these days, Horan.”

Niall stands there, blinking a few times at Shawn and trying to think of something, anything, to say. He’s drawing a complete blank as Shawn watches him, waiting. He should make a joke in return, because of course Shawn was just joking, but it’s like he’s temporarily lost the power of speech.

“Your coffee’ll be ready in a sec,” Shawn says finally, jerking his chin down toward the pick up sign. “Go on, I’ll bring the croissant out in a few.”

“Thanks,” Niall manages, pocketing his wallet. He drifts down a few paces toward the pick up counter and looks back over his shoulder. Shawn is still watching him. Niall manages a nod before he has to turn and look where he’s going, sure he’ll bump into someone or knock a table over if he keeps his eyes locked with Shawn’s, which would make for an embarrassing last visit to the bakery. Not how he’d want to be remembered. Assuming these people will remember him once he’s gone and back in the city.

Khalid is laughing silently, his shoulders shaking, when Niall reaches him.

“What?” Niall asks, already amused and wanting to be in on the joke. It’s probably not on him since he managed not to stumble.

“You’ve got it  _ so bad, _ man,” Khalid says, shaking his head and handing Niall his cappuccino. Oh, so the joke  _ is _ on him. Great. Niall whips his head around, but he didn’t have to worry about Shawn overhearing, he’s just disappeared behind the door.

“I do not,” Niall hisses lowly, taking his paper cup. 

“It’s  _ embarrassing,” _ Khalid laughs. “But you know what, so does he, so it’s all good right?”

“Bye, Khalid,” Niall clips, turning and walking to his table to get situated. He spies a young, pretty girl with a high ponytail approach his table as he turns on his laptop.

“Hi, you’re Niall, right?” the girl says when she reaches him. “I’m Ariana, can I sit?”

She sits without waiting for a reply, but Niall finds he doesn’t mind. Much.

“What can I do for you, Ariana?” he asks, sitting back and taking a sip of coffee. He doesn’t bother introducing himself since she, like everyone in this town, already knows exactly who he is and apparently thinks of his breakfast as his office hours.

“Okay, so, sorry to bother you,” she says, gesturing to his laptop. “I’m sure you’re super busy, but I’m working on starting this non-profit–”

“Really?” Niall can’t stop himself from interrupting. “You’re starting a non-profit?”

“What?” Ariana says, blinking at him. “Like it’s hard?”

“I mean, you’re just so–”

“Young?” she asks, twirling the end of her long ponytail. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Anyway, I founded this singing group and we perform at fundraisers, but honestly it would be so much easier for people to donate directly to us, and we could focus on one cause instead of spreading donations too thin over a variety of places, right?”

“Smart,” Niall comments, rubbing his chin. His curiosity gets the better of him. “What were you thinking for your one cause?”

“Definitely the new cancer wing at the hospital over in Springfield,” she says confidently. “It’s state of the art, it’s going to help so many people, especially in the surrounding rural areas.”

“Well, it seems like you have things figured out,” Niall offers. “I’m not sure what you’d need me for. Are you just asking around for donations or–”

“No, no,” Ariana laughs, flipping her ponytail. “No, we’re performing at the concert tomorrow and Louis said we could pass a basket around, so we’re all set for this week. No, I was just wondering if I could ask for some advice about setting up a 501(c)?”

People asking for free legal advice is an occupational hazard, but Niall has never been approached by so many people in such a short amount of time. What is going on in this town?

“I am actually, um, super busy,” Niall says politely. “I have to get some work done before a meeting, and I don’t–”

“Practice that kind of law,” Shawn finishes for him as he walks up and sets the plate with Niall’s croissant down. “Hey, Ari.”

“Hey, Shawnie,” Ariana greets him, seemingly unbothered by Niall’s refusal. He has a feeling it won’t slow her down. “I’m gonna see you at the concert tomorrow, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Shawn grins, giving her a quick hug as she stands. “I’ll bring my wallet.”

“Good, you’ll need it,” she laughs. “I wish you’d bring your guitar, though.”

Niall glances at Shawn just in time to see the blush bloom across his cheeks. Shawn looks down, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth since Niall’s known him.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Shawn says bashfully. “See you, Ari.”

“Bye, Shawn! Bye, Niall!” she calls over her shoulder as she walks toward the door. 

Niall looks back to Shawn, whose face is still a delightful light shade of pink. He gets the sense that Shawn doesn’t want to talk about the guitar and casts about for another topic that will keep him by the table for a minute or two. Niall will be back to his usual bakery in the city tomorrow and, while he’ll be glad to get back to his morning bagel routine, he might miss this place and the small talk that comes with it a little. 

Just a little. 

“What is with everyone in this town asking for legal advice?” Niall blurts out just as Shawn starts to step away. “I mean, I get that occasionally in the city, but nothing like here.”

“Oh.” Shawn’s shoulders slump and there’s no hint of his usual smile on his face. “There used to be a lawyer in town, but he passed away last summer. People just… they don’t have someone to go to anymore, you know?”

“Oh,” Niall breathes. He wasn’t expecting such a serious reply to his flippant comment. “Fuck, I’m so–”

“You didn’t know. Enjoy the croissant, yeah?” Shawn shrugs and smiles sadly before walking back to counter.

Well, that’s not how Niall wanted what may have been his last interaction with Shawn to go. He watches helplessly as Shawn rounds the corner and starts looking through one of the glass pastry cases from behind the counter, presumably to see what needs restocking. Shawn looks up after a moment, spots Niall watching him, and his face breaks into a smile. He gives Niall a quick wave, which Niall returns without even thinking. Satisfied that Shawn looks a bit happier, Niall turns his attention to his laptop.

He gets through the rest of the morning painlessly, ticking off tasks on his list from Hailee and emailing her attachments as he goes. The strong coffee helps, Khalid truly is a master of his craft, and Niall thinks about a second cappuccino before ultimately deciding against, not wanting to risk feeling jittery during his meeting with Liam. The croissant, however, he only gets through about half of before he gives up. It’s just too heavy, or too rich, too  _ something _ for his first meal of the day. 

Niall smiles to himself as he thinks about Shawn’s declaration that he’d figure him out one of these days, today not having turned out to be the day, before he remembers that if all goes well during his meeting, Shawn won’t have any more days to try. 

When did that start to matter to him? 

“Hey, man.” Zayn’s greeting breaks Niall out of his reverie. “You ready?”

“Hey,” Niall says, scrambling to close out documents on the laptop. “Sorry, lost track of time. Be ready in a minute.”

“No worries,” Zayn replies, waving at Shawn and Khalid behind the counter. “We’ve got time.”

Niall quickly shuts down his laptop, repacks his briefcase and clears his own table before putting his coat and scarf on, all while Zayn leans languidly against the wall watching him.

“Okay, ready,” Niall says, picking up his briefcase.

“Good luck!”

“Go get him, man!”

Niall laughs as Shawn and Khalid cheer, waving on his way out of the bakery. Who knows if they even want this deal to go through? If this was back at the firm, Niall wouldn’t be sure of their motives, but here in Ivy Hollow, he can say to himself with certainty they’re just being kind and supportive of him, regardless of their own opinions of the deal. 

It’s a good thing Niall will be on the afternoon train. If he let himself, he could get used to this.

He follows Zayn to the pickup parked at the curb, climbing in the passenger side and buckling his seat belt. Zayn starts the truck and suddenly Mariah Carey’s voice is belting out about all she wants for Christmas. Niall glances over at Zayn, expecting him to jab at the radio buttons like the other day, but he smiles beatifically as he pulls the truck into the street.

“Kinda like this one,” he says, almost to himself.

“Someone’s found their Christmas spirit, eh?” Niall says. “Guess I’ll have to be the only Grinch in town, then.”

“Not for long, yeah?” Zayn asks, glancing over. “Just gotta work Liam over with all your lawyer mumbo jumbo and then you’ll be outta here?”

“That’s the plan,” Niall nods. 

“You know, my grandma had this saying,” Zayn remarks as he turns onto a country road, getting closer to the Christmas tree farm. “‘We make plans and God laughs.’”

“He’s probably been having a fair few laughs at me lately, then,” Niall shrugs. “Right comedian, I’ve been.”

“At least Liam set up a meeting with you,” Zayn offers as he pulls into the long drive that leads to the farm. “That’s progress.”

Niall nods and they fall quiet for the rest of the short drive. Zayn parks in front of a large house a bit farther down from the barn this time, explaining, “Liam’s got an office at the house, he said he’d meet you there.”

“Thanks,” Niall says, unbuckling his seat belt and reaching for his briefcase. “I appreciate the ride, I really do.”

“Sure, no problem.” 

And with that, Niall gets out of the truck and Zayn pulls away with a toot of the horn.

Right, then. Time to close this deal. 

Once and for all. 

*

“I told you,” Liam laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “if you want to talk shop, you’ve got to chop chop.”

Niall breathes heavily, glaring at the wood stump he’s swung at and missed half a dozen times now. Liam had dragged him out to the backyard before Niall had even gotten a word out in greeting, insisting on speaking over forced manual labor. Man to man or some kind of toxic nonsense. That, or he’s just testing Niall.

Those puppy dog eyes and wide grin hide a real mean streak. 

“Right,” Niall huffs, adjusting his stance. Feet shoulder width apart, shoulders squared, head down. He lifts the (unbelievably heavy) ax and swings again, this time connecting with the stump but failing to split it. Shit. Liam had made it look so  _ easy. _ “So, once you sign the contract, the farm will go into–”

“Back up like half a step,” Liam instructs him, pulling the ax out of the wood and handing it back to him. “You can’t be afraid of connecting with it, know what I mean? Try again, I’ve got to get through this pile before lunch.”

“Jesus,” Niall mutters, taking the half step back and getting back into position. “The trainers at my gym did not prepare me for this. You do this every day?”

“Nah, man,” Liam laughs, gesturing for Niall to try again. “Every day is something different, between the business side, the books and all that, and the actual labor of running a farm. It’s just your luck that it’s time to chop wood and not feed the bunnies.”

Niall stumbles as he swings and the ax drops to the ground.

_ “Fuck.” _ He takes off his overcoat and lays it on the relatively clean porch railing, and then wipes some of the sweat from his brow. “Just as well, rabbits are pointless. Do nothing.” He rolls his shoulders. “Let’s chop some more wood.”

“Here we go,” Liam says cheerfully, setting another stump in front of him. “Try your luck with this one.”

It goes on like that for another hour. Niall gets progressively sweatier and muddier and more frustrated, as Liam cuts him off every time he tries to talk shop, directing him back to chopping. He manages to split a few stumps with decent form by the end of the pile, although Liam took care of most of the work while demonstrating technique. This must be like child’s play to him. 

Liam offers him a glass of water and they sit on the back porch steps, sipping in companionable silence as they look out over the vast green scenery in front of them, acres and acres of trees as far as the eye can see.

“Listen,” Liam says finally, his eyes still on the view. “You don’t seem like a bad guy. When I got the call that your firm was sending someone out, I assumed it would be one of the dicks I’d dealt with before.” He winces. “Sorry.”

Niall shakes his head when Liam glances over at him. “Don’t worry about it. I know some of the guys on the Syco account, they can be dicks.”

“Right?” Liam says, looking relieved. “What is that Winston guy’s  _ problem? _ Anyway, you seem decent, so I’m sorry for putting you through all this. But I can’t sign the contract.”

“Do you mind if I ask why not?” Niall offers. “I know I’m here on the behalf of the client, but maybe I can help.”

“I can’t sign something that I don’t fully understand,” Liam explains. “And that contract is a whole stack of papers that I just don’t understand. And I don’t have a lawyer to explain it to me, while Simon Cowell probably keeps the lights on at your firm with the money he pays you.”

“Yeah, he’s a whale,” Niall agrees. “Big account, deep pockets, endless billable hours.”

“And I am a very small fish,” Liam replies. He drains the rest of his glass and stands, looking back to Niall. “Be honest, have you read the entire contract? Every page, every clause?”

“No,” Niall admits. “I’ve been briefed, but I was pulled in just for this assignment, so I haven’t read the contract all the way through.”

Liam looks at him appraisingly. “Come back when you have. I promise, we’ll talk then. Deal?”

“Deal,” Niall agrees, reaching a hand out to shake on it. Despite the unexpected and unpleasant workout, he can’t really hold this against Liam. If he were in his shoes, he’d probably do the same.

“Come on,” Liam says, reaching to take Niall’s glass from him. “I’ll give you a ride back into town.”

“Thank Christ,” Niall says, picking up his coat and laying it over his arm before grabbing his briefcase. “Here I thought the walk back was hard the other day, I can’t imagine doing it after that workout.”

Liam smiles sheepishly. Maybe the mean streak doesn’t run very deep. But it’s definitely there.

“Sorry again,” he says. “But I really did need that pile chopped this morning.”

“Glad to be of service,” Niall replies. “I’ll have to retire this suit, but now I know what I need to work on at the gym.”

Liam laughs as Niall gestures down to his sweat stained, muddy outfit. And if he’d thought these shoes were ruined before, well… 

*

An enormous gray cat with long silky fur winds its way around Niall’s legs the second he opens the door to the B&B. For Christ’s sake. Is this actually a B&B for cats and they just made an exception for a human when Hailee called on his behalf?

“Niall! Don’t let him out!”

Niall quickly side steps the cat as Harry’s frantic voice travels into the front hallway from the sitting room. He shuts the door firmly behind him and wags a finger at the cat.

“Bad,” he says quietly. “Bad cat.”

He looks up to see Louis watching him from the other end of the hallway, looking entirely too amused for Niall’s taste.

“How many fucking cats do you own?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Enough,” Louis shrugs. “We just got a call from Hailee, one more night?”

“You know, Niall,” Harry chimes in from where he’s appeared at the doorway to the sitting room. “You could just extend your stay through the weekend now, no use in adding another night each day. That’s more work for Hailee, and it seems like you keep her busy enough, even from half a state away, working remotely–”

“Just the one more night for now, thanks,” Niall says loudly, the exhaustion from his trip to the farm catching up with him. “Say, Harry, can I trouble you for some water?”

“Of course!” Harry replies immediately, his deep voice lilting. He rushes down the hallway, calling out, “Louis, make him go sit down, that old afghan from your aunt is on the couch so the mud doesn’t matter!”

“Hey!” Louis protests indignantly. He turns to Niall, shrugging. “It is kind of ugly, but still. You can’t go around insulting a man’s aunt’s handmade afghans, am I right?”

Niall chuckles as he follows Louis into the sitting room, dropping down onto said (ugly) afghan on the couch. Looking around the large room, he takes in the myriad Christmas decorations; there’s a set of porcelain Christmas town buildings, the kind his grandmother used to own, in addition to stockings and garlands and, of course, a large tree in the corner. 

“Liam put you through the ringer, huh?” Louis asks, his expression sympathetic. “And you’ve got a bad knee! Don’t worry, Harry’ll get you set up with cold or hot compresses, whatever you need. I was just about to head back to work, though, I’ve got a class to teach at 2:00.”

“One water, coming right up!” Harry announces as he bounces back into the room. He hands the glass of water to Niall before turning to his husband. “I’ll see you tonight? Dinner at Gemma’s.”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there after dress rehearsal,” Louis replies, pursing his lips for a kiss which Harry immediately gives him, apparently not caring that Niall is sitting right there. They exchange more chaste kisses than Niall cares to see before finally separating. “Bye, love. Bye Niall, take it easy.”

“Bye,” Niall says, waving as he sits back and sips his water. The gray cat jumps up onto the couch and sits on the cushion next to him, staring him down. For a cat, his gaze is pretty intense, but Niall doesn’t reach a hand out to pet him. This town may be creeping under his skin, but he won’t be intimidated by a cat, no matter how large he is.

“So!” Harry says, clapping his hands together as he turns to Niall. “I was just adding some decorations to the tree, stay and sit for awhile?”

“Sure,” Niall says easily. He’s not in the mood to climb the stairs to his room just yet anyway.

“Yay!” Harry beams at him before moving to rustle through a box that Niall hadn’t noticed at the foot of tree. “So the meeting with Liam didn’t go well?”

“It could have gone worse,” Niall concedes, setting his empty glass on the coffee table in front of him. “He won’t sign because he doesn’t have a lawyer to explain all of the details to him, but he said to come back and we’ll really talk after I’ve read the whole thing through myself.”

“Well, that sounds reasonable,” Harry remarks as he starts to add ornaments to the tree.

“No, I know, it’s progress,” Niall replies, scrubbing a hand over his face. Harry’s sympathetic ear prompts Niall’s mounting frustration to start spilling out. “But this deal has been in the works for months, Harry, if not the whole year. And Liam’s not stupid, he knows he knows he needs a lawyer, he’s had plenty of time to get one. So what’s the problem? I don’t get it, I really don’t.”

Harry’s shoulders slump as he looks down at the sparkly ornament in his hand.

“Everyone in town used to go to my stepdad, Robin,” Harry quietly informs him. He hooks the ornament on the tree and reaches down for another without looking over at Niall. “He was the only lawyer in town, his old office is right across the street from the bakery. He always had a steady stream of people who needed help, and whatever the problem was, he’d figure out a way to fix it, even if it wasn’t something he could handle directly. And then he’d charge them whatever he knew they could afford. There wasn’t really enough business for anyone else in town to practice, so it was just him.”

Harry turns and points at a framed photo on the mantel showing a kind-looking older man sitting on a sofa, smiling as a younger Harry cuddles up to him under a blanket.

“That was him,” Harry says, turning back to the tree. “He passed away last summer, and no one’s really figured out what to do without him.” He clears his throat. “I mean, as a lawyer. How do you convince someone new to move to a tiny town so far away from the city where it’s Christmas all year round and people can’t afford to pay what you probably deserve?”

Harry finally looks over at Niall and shrugs his shoulders helplessly. Niall is stunned; he’s never seen Harry so somber before, he’s always been so upbeat and happy and full of life. If he’s honest, it’s breaking Niall’s heart a little to see Harry like this.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Niall says gently. He could kick himself for having forgotten the conversation with Shawn this morning. And he’d had no idea his venting would hit so close to home for Harry. “I’m sorry for spouting off, but also for your loss. He sounds like a really good man.”

“He was,” Harry says, looking back to his tree and adjusting one of the ornaments. “He loved Christmas. Think that’s why he wanted to live here. This was his favorite time of year.”

Niall furrows his brow. “Then how come you’re adding to the decorations in this room that already looks like Christmas threw up all over it?”

That startles a laugh out of Harry. 

“Doesn’t it…” Niall starts, watching as Harry picks up a bag of tinsel and considers the already crowded tree. “Doesn’t it make you sadder? To celebrate?”

“No,” Harry says simply, strewing the tinsel over a far branch. “No, it helps me remember the good things, the times before he got sick and how much he enjoyed celebrating. It makes me happy, not sad.”

Niall lets Harry’s words settle over him for a moment before he can’t stand it any longer. He needs to get up, he needs to move, he needs to do something. 

“Here, let me help,” Niall says, getting up and walking over to where Harry stands by the tree. 

“Really?” Harry grins at him. “Yay! Niall, this is going to be so much fun. We can do the tree in the dining room after this one! Say, do you want me to break out the eggnog?”

“Sure,” Niall laughs, happy to see the enthusiastic Harry he’s used to reappear. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

“Right!” Harry laughs as he walks to the doorway. “Now, let me see, where did we stash it…” 

Niall takes a deep breath and stands back, taking in the frankly garish tree that still somehow has its charms, right down to the kitten currently napping underneath it. 

Harry doesn’t know it, but he’s given Niall a lot to think about.

**December 21**

“Knock knock!”

The light rap on the door is accompanied by Harry’s muffled voice, and although that inane greeting is usually like nails on a chalkboard to Niall’s ears, he finds he doesn’t mind it much in Harry’s deep baritone.

Niall opens the door a few inches and peeks around it, not wanting Harry to see him in his current state: His hair’s a mess and he still needs to rub the sleep from his eyes, but worst of all, he’s clad only in a pair of comfy, capri-length gray sweatpants since his last undershirt is in the load of wash that Harry’s here to deliver. 

Without waiting for a greeting, Harry thrusts the pile of neatly folded clean clothes in his hands toward Niall with a chipper “Good mo-orning.” The small black and white cat from the other day darts into Niall’s room and, without meaning to, he opens the door wider as he turns to see where the cat went. 

“Oh my god, Niall,” Harry says, “look at your chest hair! Does it just naturally grow in the shape of a heart? See, I always knew you were just an old softie–”

“Harry,” Niall interrupts, his voice gruff because he’s just woken up. He clears his throat. “Did you see where the cat went?” 

“Oh, look,” Harry exclaims, pointing behind Niall. “She’s curled up on the bed! That’s so cute.”

“D’you mind coming to get her?” Niall asks, rubbing at his eyes for a moment and then blinking. He reaches out and takes the pile of clean laundry from Harry, hugging it to his bare chest. 

“Of course,” Harry says, rushing toward the bed and scooping the cat up into his arms. “Sorry, this room is her favorite. Most of the cats like it actually, I think because it gets the most morning sun, you know?” 

“You should call it the Cat’s Meow Suite or something,” Niall says without thinking. Where did  _ that _ come from? Not bad though. “Add a plaque to the door, throw a cat bed or two with matching bedding below the window, people will eat it up.”

Harry gasps and his eyes light up. “You are a genius, Niall Horan. A genius!”

“A genius who needs to get showered and dressed,” Niall says gently. “So if you and Santa don’t mind…”

“You remembered her name,” Harry says, moving a hand to his mouth and looking entirely too touched for this hour of the morning. He points at Niall accusingly.  _ “Softie.” _

“Guilty as charged,” Niall grumbles, smiling in spite of himself. “No go on, get out of here, let me get presentable.”

“If you want a ride to the  _ bakery,” _ Harry says as he walks toward the door, “I’m actually headed there in about an hour, I have an order to pick up for book club at the library.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Niall says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“I knew you would,” Harry singsongs as he carries the cat down the hallway to the stairs.

Niall goes through his routine, using an assortment of products after showering but deciding to forego a shave, before getting dressed in the non mud-covered suit hanging in his closet. It’s actually in pretty dire need of dry cleaning, too, but Niall figures he can get one more wear out of it. If he has to extend his stay (again), he’ll definitely have to do some shopping; his carefully packed suitcase was meant for just the one night, and it’s showing. 

The extended stay is already looking likely, as much as he hates to admit defeat. He’d started reading through the Syco contract the night before and it’s even more of a convoluted mess than most contracts he’s worked on. It reads as though everyone on the Cowell account had a hand in writing it over the past several months, like a patchwork quilt of legalese. It will take him hours to go through.

In fact, he may as well text Hailee now to give her an update. He taps out a quick message, one eye on the time since he does want to catch that ride to the bakery, already looking forward to his usual cappuccino and whatever pastry Shawn decides to throw at him today. 

_ You didn’t hear it from me but Cowell’s favorite is that guy James Arthur on 37th  _

_ He was supposed to oversee the document as a whole so yeah… I’m not surprised  _

_ I’ll call Harry this afternoon unless I hear otherwise, boss _

Niall’s not surprised either, by the gossip or the fact that his assistant could supply it immediately. He’s familiar with that Arthur guy, total hack, always looking for shortcuts. Figures he’s the one “overseeing” this disjointed collection of provisions and articles. As Niall gets his things together to go downstairs, he realizes that this deal may have been hard to push through even if Liam did have his own lawyer. 

Maybe he would have had to spend the week in Ivy Hollow regardless. 

It’s an interesting thought, but one he doesn’t have much time for as he spots Harry in the front hall, wrapping a long scarf around his neck as the enormous gray cat he’d met the day before stakes out the door. 

“Watch out, Harry,” Niall jokes as he reaches the bottom step. “Looks like you’ve got a runner.”

“Prancer! Bad cat,” Harry scolds as he shoos the cat away from the door. He slings a messenger bag over his shoulder and wags his finger at the retreating cat. “Straight to the naughty list, you know better!”

_ “Prancer?” _ Niall asks as he follows Harry out the front door. “Harry, be honest, has that cat ever pranced a day in his life?”

“I’ll thank you not to body shame my beloved cat, Niall,” Harry says as he leads the way to a white minivan with an appealing red  _ Ivy House _ graphic along the side. “He’s a Maine Coon, he can’t help his size. He’s big boned.”

Niall refrains from making any more jokes as he climbs in the passenger side, fearing a lecture from his host and eager to get to his coffee. He half listens as Harry chatters about the plot of the novel his book club is discussing at the library, something about living at the beach and rediscovering love but somehow  _ not _ by Nicholas Sparks. Going by Harry's reactions, he manages to nod and hum along in the right places.

Harry leads the way into the bakery and waits for Niall to claim his usual corner table before joining him in line.

“Hey, guys.” Shawn greets them with his customary wide grin and a hand through his hair. “Hey, Harry, hey, Niall.”

“Good morning!” Harry replies. “I brought your number one customer, he'll be dining in, but I'm just here to pick up my order.”

“Oh, yeah,” Shawn says, glancing over at Niall. “The lemon lavender pound cake. It'll just take a minute to wrap up.”

“Excuse me,  _ lemon lavender _ pound cake?” Niall scoffs, not even bothering to hide his distaste. What kind of hipster nonsense is that? 

“Niall,” Harry gasps, turning toward him with a frown. “Yes,  _ lemon lavender _ pound cake. It's exquisite, you must try a piece.”

“Absolutely not,” Niall says, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Come on, Niall,” Shawn teases. “Live a little. I mean, I know it's not a _plain_ _bagel_ but you might like it.”

“Yeah, come on, Niall,” Harry pouts. “It's so good, I'd never had it until Shawn added it to the menu a couple of years ago, and now I can't live without it.”

Shawn looks up from the register with a daring gleam in his eyes and, well, Niall's never been one to back down from a challenge. 

He's not about to start now. 

“Alright, alright,” Niall says, raising his hands in defeat. “Fine, you got me.”

Shawn and Harry cheer and high five over the counter as Khalid laughs at all of them from the coffee bar.

“You're really loosening up, man,” he calls down. “I like it, keep it up.”

“Put his on my tab, Shawn,” Harry says, reaching for the white paper bag that Shawn has ready for him. “I've got to run, I'll see you all tonight!” 

Shawn, Khalid and half the customers call out, “Bye, Harry!” as he rushes toward the door.

“Here you go, man,” Khalid says, walking over with a paper coffee cup that he hands over to Niall. “Got started on your usual when you walked in.”

“And here's the pound cake,” Shawn adds, sliding a plate across the counter. “I'm glad you're taking a chance on it.”

“Isn't that what life's about, guys?” Khalid asks, throwing his arm around Shawn's shoulder. “Taking chances?”

“Okay, okay,” Niall grumbles good-naturedly. He takes his cup and plate, lifting the cup in a mock toast. “Never had so much trouble at my bakery in the city. I come in, I order a bagel, I pay, they give me a bagel, no sass.”

“Oh, the sass is on the house,” Shawn says confidently, a light blush adorning his cheeks after a moment. He drops his eyes and then looks back up at Niall through his long lashes.

“I guess that’s alright,” Niall murmurs. He shrugs a shoulder at Shawn and gets a small smile in return. Satisfied, he turns and carries his breakfast to his table.

After getting situated with the Payne contract in front of him, along with a notepad and pen, Niall eyes the pound cake warily. He takes a sip of coffee, considering the light frosting along the top of the slice. So it's going to be too sweet in addition to tasting like some kind of herbal tea. Great. 

“Hey, Niall, right?”

A petite blonde woman with wide brown eyes fringed with dark lashes sits in the chair across from him and reaches a hand out.

“Hi, I'm Bebe,” she says as Niall shakes her hand, admiring her sparkly pink manicure. “Shit, this is rude, right?” She shrugs off her gold trench coat and sets her iPhone on the table, tapping it with a long fingernail. “You’re busy. I'm really sorry, I just don't know who else to talk to, you know?”

Niall sees Shawn watching him out of the corner of his eye, but focuses his attention on the rattled young woman in front of him.

“I have some time,” he replies, sitting back and taking a sip of his perfectly made cappuccino. “Here, eat some of this pound cake and tell me if it's awful, then you can tell me what's on your mind.”

“That's funny,” Bebe laughs, pointing at him. “You're funny. But there's no way I'm eating that, that shit's for hipsters like Harry.”

Niall cackles loudly enough to draw looks from everyone in the bakery.

“Fair enough,” Niall concedes, setting his cup down. “Alright, so what seems to be the problem?”

“Okay, so, right,” Bebe starts, leaning forward and swiping on her phone. “I have this Etsy store, I know, so bougie. My main job is at the salon, I’m the manicurist and I’ve actually been thinking about esthetician school. Anyway, the Etsy’s a good side business, I do pretty well. See, I take my own drawings and sell prints and then like t-shirts and mugs, the whole bit, right?”

She holds up her phone to show Niall a beautifully rendered drawing of Marilyn Monroe in her iconic pink evening gown. 

“That’s really well done,” Niall nods approvingly. “And Marilyn, nice choice.”

“Thank you,” Bebe says, her eyes on her phone as she swipes through to a couple more photos, one of a simple line drawing of Marilyn in a black turtleneck and then one of a drawing that looks more like a watercolor painting of Marilyn posing over the vent in the infamous white dress. “I only draw bad bitches,” Bebe continues as she takes her phone back to swipe at again. “You know, like Marilyn, Cher, Madonna.” She heaves a sigh and holds the phone up again. “So it's, like, a really long story how, but I found this other shop that’s lifted like five of my designs and I know they've literally made hundreds of dollars off of them. At least. Maybe a couple thousand?”

“Shit,” Niall mutters, leaning forward to get a better look at the screenshot displayed on the phone. There, clear as day, is one of the drawings Bebe had just shown him listed under another seller’s name. “Did you contact Etsy, have it removed?”

“Yeah, I ‘reported the stolen content,’ as they put it,” Bebe says, setting her phone down and doing air quotes before sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest. “And like, okay, that shop can’t list them again but what, now I have to watch them to make sure they doesn’t steal anything else? That’s bullshit! And what about the money they already made, Niall? Can’t I, like, sue them?”

“You could sue,” Niall offers, nodding. “But more likely than not, you’ll spend more on legal fees and court costs than anything you recover from them – and that’s assuming you  _ do _ recover anything.”

“Fucking seriously? That’s so unfair!”

“I know,” Niall says, running his hand through his hair. He mentally kicks himself for picking up Shawn’s habit, wondering if he’s still being watched from across the bakery. “Listen, unfair doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s a bullshit system, but that’s the one we have. That’s the bad news.”

“Is there good news?” Bebe asks, hugging her arms around herself. 

“A bit of good news,” Niall answers. “There is one fairly easy thing we can do, draft a cease and desist letter and send it to the seller. That should give them a scare and then you won’t have to worry, or at least worry as much, about watching the shop for more stolen designs.”

“Oh my god, Niall!” Bebe exclaims, her eyes lighting up. She claps her hands together. “Would you really do that? I don’t know how much you charge, is it like by the hour because we’ve only been talking like 15 minutes at  _ most–” _

“How about this,” Niall interrupts. “Why don’t you give me one of your Marilyn prints as a form of payment? And find a frame for it? I need a Christmas gift for my assistant and she’s quite the… bad bitch herself. I think she’d love one.”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, thank you!” Bebe wiggles around in her seat and Niall is sure that if she were standing, she’d be jumping up and down right now. “Are you serious because I can totally do that, here, let me show you which ones I have again so you can pick one…”

Niall absently picks at the slice of pound cake as Bebe goes through her Etsy offerings on her phone with him; the baked good isn’t awful, as he expected, but the light flavor isn’t quite to his tastes. He looks up to see Shawn nodding approvingly at him and feels something settle in his chest. 

What is that? Is he proud that he’s earned Shawn’s respect? Happy? Or does he just feel at ease here? As he and Bebe agree on the simple line drawing in a black frame for Hailee, and he takes out his laptop to draft the letter for her, he’s not sure what it is.

But he knows he likes it.

*

Niall pulls on the handle of the heavy door to the public library, holding it open for a young woman on her way out with two kids before stepping inside. The main room up front is fairly cozy; the half a dozen small tables in the center of the room are surrounded by shelves crammed full of books. There are a few patrons studying, piles of papers and stacks of books spread out on the tables before them. Niall will be joining them soon, and hopefully getting through the bulk of the contract, just as soon as he finds–

“Niall!” Harry squeals, appearing in front of him. “Did you come to visit me?”

“Hi, Harry,” Niall replies, turning toward him with a smile. “I heard a rumor that there’s a printer here and I was hoping I could use it.”

“Oh.” Harry’s smile droops a little.

“And, of course, I knew you’d be here,” Niall rushes to say, patting Harry’s arm. “Wanted to track you down, actually, to ask what you were thinking with that pound cake. Fucking terrible.”

Harry barks a laugh, drawing some disapproving looks and even one shush, and he beckons for Niall to follow him past the circulation desk and down a hallway.

“For a big city dweller, you have no taste, Niall Horan,” he whispers loudly, shaking his head. “That pound cake is  _ divine, _ the ladies at book club loved it.”

Niall snorts, following Harry into a small office. 

“Welcome,” Harry says, turning to face Niall and waving his hand with a flourish. “This is my office. There  _ is _ a printer up front that the public can use, it’s a dime a page, but you can just use mine back here. Friends and family discount.”

It’s a small gesture really, one that’s literally only worth ten cents, but Harry's words are somehow worth more to Niall.

“Thanks,” he replies after a moment. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” Harry shrugs, plopping down in the chair across from his desk and waving to Niall to take the seat behind it. “What do you need to print?”

“Oh, uh,” Niall starts as he moves behind Harry’s desk. He sits and places his briefcase on the desk. “You know Bebe Rexha?”

“Niall, I know everyone in this town,” Harry says drily. “Yes, I know Bebe, she’s lovely. Did you know Bebe is a nickname? Her real name is Bleta, which means–”

“Sorry, is there, like a cord?” Niall interrupts, turning to look around the side of the printer. “Does the laptop need to be, like, the same brand as the printer or–”

“Oh my god, Niall.” Harry tsks, shaking his head. “When’s the last time you printed something on your own? Let me guess, Hailee always takes care of that for you, doesn’t she? I told her you were lost without her when she called earlier to arrange for another night again. Here, pull up the document and I’ll print it for you.”

“Thanks,” Niall says sheepishly. “Guess it has been while since I’ve done that kind of thing for myself. What, um…” Niall clicks around on the mousepad, opens the document he’d saved to his desktop, and pushes the laptop over to Harry. “What were you saying about Bebe’s name?”

“Oh, right,” Harry says, looking up brightly from the screen he’d been frowning at. “So, Bebe’s family is Albanian – you didn’t meet any of them yet, did you? Just Bebe? I’ll try to find her parents tonight at the concert to introduce you, they’re  _ so _ nice. And her brother!” Harry looks back down at the laptop screen as he clicks and taps away. “Anyway, her real name is Bleta, which means bee in Albanian. Bebe is such a cute nickname for her, don’t you think?”

“Cute,” Niall agrees readily. He’s gotten pretty good at following Harry’s meandering trains of thought, if he does say so himself; he caught all of that. “She had a lot of energy when I spoke with her, practically buzzing.”

Harry giggles at the pun, if you could call it that, and the printer behind Niall whirs to life, spitting out the letter he’d typed up on the firm’s letterhead, figuring no one would mind. Well, they can’t mind what they don’t know about. Niall reaches out and picks up the sheet of paper, skimming it over.

“She was having a problem with her Etsy store,” Niall explains, looking up at Harry. “So I offered to draft a letter on her behalf. Just want to mail it before I leave town.”

“Niall,” Harry says, his eyes filling with tears.

“It’s no big deal,” Niall shrugs, hoping his discomfort in the face of Harry’s emotion isn’t too obvious. He grabs a pen, adding his signature at the bottom of the letter as he continues, “It didn’t take long to write up or anything.”

Harry looks up, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes, but a couple spill over onto his cheeks. He wipes them away and smiles ruefully at Niall. 

“That was really kind of you, Niall,” he says quietly. “That’s what you did today.” He points at a pink sign on the wall that reads ‘Treat People With Kindness’ in stark black letters. “You treated with Bebe with kindness. And that is a big deal. To me, anyway.”

He holds a hand out to Niall, palm up.

“Here, I’ll mail it for you right now,” Harry offers. “I have envelopes and stamps here, and I can copy the address from the letter.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Niall says, handing the sheet of paper over. “And not just for printing the letter and mailing it, for… just, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry replies. He rakes his hand through the front of his hair and then scrunches the ends before shaking out his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll take care of that, what are you up to this afternoon?”

“Thought I’d stick around here,” Niall says, shutting the laptop off and putting it back in the briefcase. He taps the hard leather side of it. “Got to put some time in getting through the Payne contract.”

“Wonderful,” Harry exclaims. “I’m here until 5:00 and then I’m grabbing a bite before I head home to change for the concert. You can come with me.”

Niall pauses, wondering if it’s even worth protesting when both he and Harry know that’s exactly what Niall will be doing tonight. Harry watches him, his eyes narrowing.

“Sounds good, Harry.”

*

“Hey, Harry! Hi, Niall!”

Niall turns and waves in the direction of the shouted greeting as he follows Harry into the building where the concert is being held. He’s not sure who it was, and for all he knows it was someone he hasn’t even met, considering how everyone in this town knows exactly who he is. Harry claps him on the back as he holds the door open, grinning at him maniacally. He doesn’t say anything, but Niall’s pretty sure Harry can tell that the thought of everyone knowing who he is doesn’t bother him much anymore.

Maybe he is actually just an old softie, as he’d admitted that morning, for not minding. But it’s hard to mind when everyone is so genuine and, as Harry would put it, treats him with kindness.

“Harry! Give me a hug, it’s been too long!”

A handsome, solidly built man with a shock of thick black hair throws his arms out and envelopes Harry in a hug. They sway a couple of times and then the man releases him, clapping him on the back. Harry angles his body toward Niall without stepping away from the man.

“Niall, this is Zayn’s dad Yaser,” Harry says. He looks over at Yaser. “Yaser, this is–”

“Niall Horan, big city lawyer,” Yaser finishes with a grin, holding his hand out for Niall to shake. He pulls it back when Niall goes to shake it, instead swooping him into a bear hug. “Welcome to Ivy Hollow, I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, young man.”

“Really?” Niall asks, smoothing a hand over his mussed coat when Yaser lets him go. “Find that hard to believe.”

“No, no,” Yaser tuts, wagging a finger at Niall. “We don’t talk like that about ourselves. Yes, nothing but good things!”

“Harry!” A pretty, thin brunette woman rushes over and places her hand on Harry’s arm. “Can you come backstage? One of the costumes ripped and it was like the last straw, Louis is hyperventilating.”

“Niall, will you be okay?” Harry asks, wrinkling his brow. “I can try to find you before it starts–”

“Go, go,” Niall waves him off. “I’ll be fine, I’m almost as popular in this town as you are, I’ll find someone to sit with.”

Yaser laughs as Harry and the harried woman dash off through the crowd. “That’s funny, you’re a funny guy, Niall Horan.”

“Thank you,” Niall replies, looking around the open, airy room. “Say, what kind of place is this? Like a community center?”

“Of a sort,” Yaser starts to explain. “So this town, it’s all Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Niall says wryly, as a few girls in Santa hats scurry past them.

“Good man,” Yaser laughs. He starts pointing around the room, and that’s when Niall notices a menorah beneath a stained glass window depicting what looks like Saint Francis surrounded by animals. “But see? This is a house of worship, but it’s for all faiths in the community. So, yes, there are Christian services, and many for Christmas, especially since several denominations celebrate it, but we share this building among all of us.”

He points to a closed door off to the side with Arabic characters over it.

“That’s a small prayer room,” Yaser explains. “For any Muslims close by at prayer times. I’m the building manager, so I’m usually here. My son, Zayn, he doesn’t practice anymore, though he likes to say he lives by the tenets of Islam. But if he’s in the area, sometimes he’ll stop in and pray with me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this,” Niall says, awestruck. “Not even in the city.”

“Well, in the city, you have more people,” Yaser replies, “so they all get their own place, right? Everyone separate. But we don’t have as many people, so we decided to share. My friend Irving, his family hosts a big Seder dinner here each year, and they invite anyone in the community to join them. We even have a few, what do they call themselves? Wiccan!” He chuckles. “You know, the scheduling used to be the hardest part of my job, but we’ve had this place for going on twenty years now, so we’ve learned about each other and how to work together.”

“Hey, Dad.” Zayn walks up behind them, and hugs his father around his shoulders. Yaser pats at Zayn’s arms before turning to face him. “See you’ve met Niall, he’s not so bad, huh?”

“Not so bad,” Yaser scoffs. “He’s a very nice young man! We were just talking about the different faiths that people practice here. But I should get back to greeting people, you two go get some punch, yeah? You have some time before you need to find a seat.”

Zayn kisses his father on the cheek and tugs Niall away as Yaser waves before turning his attention back to the door. Niall spots Liam at the snack table on the other side of the room, clad in a long black winter coat with large gold buttons.

“Liam, you clean up nice,” Niall whistles once they reach him. Zayn laughs and Liam smiles widely, his eyes crinkled almost shut.

“Thank you, thank you,” he replies, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. “How goes it with the contract?”

“Don’t remind me,” Niall groans. “Off the record, that thing’s a mess. But I should be able to touch base with you tomorrow, explain exactly what you’re getting into, if that’ll work for you?”

“No more shop talk, guys,” Zayn says, cutting off Liam before he can reply. “Take the night off, yeah?”

Liam puts his hands up in surrender, then moves to pour cups of punch as Zayn turns to Niall.

“So, the B&B,” he says, accepting a cup from Liam. “How’re you liking it?”

“Well,” Niall starts, taking a sip of the punch and smacking his lips a little at how sweet it is. “There are a lot of cats.”

Liam cracks up while Zayn narrows his eyes at Niall.

“So?” he asks, puffing his chest out slightly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!” Niall rushes to say, coughing as some the punch goes down the pipe. He clears his throat. “Nothing’s wrong with that! Just unexpected, is all.” 

“Lighten up,” Liam says kindly, knocking his shoulder into Zayn’s. “How many are they up to now? Six?”

“I’ve met five, I think,” Niall says, counting on his fingers as he tries to remember.

“Clearly you don’t follow Ivy House on Instagram.”

Niall swivels his head and sees Grimmy approaching their little group from the other end of the table. He sidles up next to Niall.

“They’re up to  _ seven _ cats,” he says witheringly to Liam. “If you lose track of the new one, Harold will cry actual tears, Liam, and I, for one, do not want to field that phone call, alright?”

“Fuck,” Liam mutters, pulling out his phone. Niall peeks over and sees him pulling up Instagram.

“Stand down, Z,” Grimmy says to Zayn, who’s frowning at Niall. Grimmy laughs. “See, Niall, Zayn is the proud new papa of a hairless Sphynx cat, that’s why his back is up.”

“Oh!” Niall says, looking over at Zayn. “That’s great, man. Sorry, I’ve just never really been a cat person.”

“Your loss,” Zayn sniffs, before dropping his shoulders and smiling at Niall. “I didn’t used to be either, think Harry got under my skin or something. I fucking love that cat, man. My whole family does; my dad even got him this little blanket that looks just like a prayer mat.”

“Really?” Niall grins, turning to glance back at Yaser. “That’s awesome.”

“D’you meet Prancer yet?” Zayn asks eagerly. This is probably the most energy Niall has seen him have yet. “I was with Harry when he adopted him last year.”

“That is the largest cat I have ever seen,” Grimmy comments as he takes a tin of lip balm out of his pocket and dabs his pinky fingertip in it. He uses the fingertip to apply the balm to his lips and then looks up at the three of them staring at him. “What? It’s winter.” 

“From what I hear,” Liam says, turning to Niall with a sly smile, “we should be asking Niall how he likes the bakery, not the B&B.”

All three of them look at him pointedly and Niall’s cheeks heat up in spite of himself.

“I like the coffee,” Niall attempts, even though he knows it won’t put an end to the teasing. “And it has good… atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Grimmy says drily before slinging an arm around Niall’s shoulders. “You know Shawn is, like, fully falling in love with you, right? And I’ve seen the way you look at him, you’re not fooling anyone.”

“Except maybe yourself,” Zayn adds. “But I don’t really think so.”

“I’m afraid they’ve got you there, Niall,” Liam says seriously, tilting his chin down as though he’s an older brother doling out advice. Niall stifles the urge to snort. Liam may as well have called him “kiddo.”

Although he supposes there’s no more appropriate place for this kind of come to Jesus talk, Niall searches the large room for anything that will distract these three from their apparent mission. Finally his eyes land on something, or someone rather, that might redirect their gossip.

“Say, Grimmy,” he says, trying to point subtly across the room. “Isn’t that that woman Candace? Did she ever block you on Instagram?”

“Shit,” Zayn mutters once he locates Candace. “She’s talking to Anne.”

“What?” Niall asks, turning to face him. “Who’s Anne?”

“Anne is Harry’s mom,” Liam explains quietly. “Candace has been trying to convince the family to sell the building they own downtown to her.”

“The one that Harry’s stepdad practiced out of?” Niall asks, trying to recall what Harry had said about it. “Oh, that must be what she wanted to talk to Harry about at the Christmas fair.”

The other three all exchange glances.

“He didn’t tell me about that,” Grimmy says, well, grimly. “Yeah, apparently she wants to run a gymnastics school out of it.”

“Even though you can take gymnastics through the public school and the Y,” Liam says, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s the type that would keep the price low until she runs those classes out of business, then raise it through the roof. I know she would.”

“Oh, one hundred percent,” Grimmy agrees. “And not that it’s that important, but yes, she  _ did _ block me on Instagram. Finally. And Niall, I followed you but you haven’t followed me back yet. I will accept your apology in the form of a mince pie from the bakery tomorrow, so you better get there early.”

Niall laughs, appreciating Grimmy’s attempt to lighten the mood, but Liam and Zayn are still glaring across the room.

“I want to go over and interrupt,” Liam says, his jaw clenched. “But I know Anne can take care of herself.”

“She’s in a tough spot, is all,” Zayn says, tossing his empty cup into the trash. “It’s not like she wants the building to stay empty, but no one else has approached her about buying or renting, so how long can she keep saying no?”

“Well, this is a somber little group. Why so glum, sugar plums?”

It only takes Niall a moment to recognize the tall girl with glasses and brown hair cut in a bob who’s walked up to greet them.

“Hello, Teddy,” he says politely. Half of him is glad to see her, he really did like her upbeat energy the other day, but the other half is wary, knowing she would most likely join in the guys’ teasing in a heartbeat.

“Fellas,” she replies, nodding to each of them. 

“Hey, is Emily in town, Teddy?” Liam asks. “Is she coming tonight?”

“Sadly, no,” Teddy answers, throwing a hand over her chest and dropping her head back for a moment.

“Who’s Emily?” Niall asks.

“My  _ fiance,” _ Teddy says in an exaggerated French accent, holding out her left hand so Niall can see the heart-shaped diamond on her ring finger. “She is just the sweetest l’il blossom of all times new roman. We’re long distance part of the year because of her work and, ugh, I miss her so much and I just need her to hurry up and come home for Christmas, it’s been too long since we danced together. She’s so cute when she dances.”

Niall’s just about to inquire about what Emily does for work when the lights flash a couple of times.

“That’s our cue!” Teddy announces, clapping her hands together. “Come on, my friend is saving seats, you guys can sit by me.”

They throw away the rest of their trash and Niall follows the little group up toward the front of the room. He smiles and nods at the faces he recognizes along the way: Khalid from the bakery; Rita, the florist he’d talked to at the fair; Maren, the waitress at the diner who’s been delivering his dinner orders to the B&B. It’s kind of nice not to keep his head down and rush past people the way he usually does back in the city.

Teddy stops about six rows from the stage and waves for the guys to follow her to an empty cluster of chairs halfway down. Zayn pats Niall’s back and waves him in first.

“After you, man,” he says with a wicked grin that Niall doesn’t understand until he sees who he’ll be sitting next to. 

“Hey, Niall,” Shawn says softly from his seat, his hand already halfway through his unruly curls.

“Hey,” Niall says, taking the new development in stride, if he does say so himself. Everyone in this town is a matchmaker, it seems, but that’s not Shawn’s fault. “Long time, no see.”

Shawn laughs and then drops his eyes. “Wasn’t sure I’d see you here you tonight.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Niall declares, settling back in his seat. If he happens to elbow Zayn on his other side in the process, well, so be it. “Correction: Harry wouldn’t have let me miss it.”

“So,” Shawn asks, his casual tone sounding affected to Niall’s ears, “one more night, huh?”

Niall clears his throat to buy a little time since all he can think about is how attuned he is to the smallest changes in Shawn’s voice and mannerisms. That’s… fuck, even he has to admit that means something.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “One more night.”

“Cool.” 

Niall opens his mouth to say something, what he has no idea, when the audience around him starts clapping. He looks to the stage at the front of the room where Louis and the pretty brunette who’d grabbed Harry earlier have walked out, waving to the crowd.

“Who’s that?” he asks, leaning closer to Shawn. Just to make sure he can hear him over the polite applause (and the cat-calling from his left).

“Oh, that’s Danica,” Shawn answers, leaning closer to Niall. Probably just to make sure he can hear. “She teaches math at the high school. She and Louis were the stars of all the plays back when we were in school, and she always pitches in and helps when he’s directing something. She’s super nice.”

“Welcome, welcome!” Louis’ raspy voice booms over the speakers. He pulls the microphone away from his mouth a bit, laughing, before continuing. “Danica and I are so proud of all the hard work the kids, and some adults, have put into getting ready for the show tonight, and we can’t wait for you to see what they’ve been working on. So without further ado, let’s start the show!”

The curtain opens to reveal at least twenty young children, maybe first or second graders, all dressed up in paper mache animal costumes.

“Oh my god,” Niall whispers to Shawn. “Is this–”

“Yeah.” Shawn grins, his eyes sparkling. “Like  _ Love Actually. _ They do it every year.”

“That’s awesome,” Niall laughs, feeling his inner Grinch die down as the kids start singing their rendition of  _ Catch a Falling Star. _ “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Look,” Shawn elbows him. “There’s the octopus!”

“‘Eight is a lot of legs, David,’” Niall says quietly, in a horrible excuse for a British accent. He may not celebrate Christmas, but even he knows the movie; it’s a classic.

Shawn collapses into giggles and a woman in the row in front of them turns to shush them, which causes Niall to start giggling like mad as well. They get themselves under control by the end of the song, joining in the wild applause.

They don’t talk as much through the rest of the concert, exchanging looks and nudges when something is funny or cute so as not to get shushed again. Niall enjoys himself more than he thought he would; he hasn’t been to a concert like this since he was young enough to be in one. There’s an entertaining mix of traditional Christmas carols and contemporary upbeat songs and Niall’s surprised at how many he remembers most of the words to. All of the kids are so earnest and endearing as they sing and attempt their choreography. Of course he’s having a good time; their enthusiasm is infectious.

There’s no program so Niall never knows what’s coming next, which was part of the fun of it until a group of middle schoolers started singing  _ Silent Night. _ They don’t attempt to change the tempo or arrangement, singing the traditional hymn as Niall is used to hearing it. Years ago, it would have made his father happy; he could never stand it when pop stars would record covers of his favorite Christmas carol, changing everything he loved about it.

That was a very long time ago, though. Niall figures his dad wouldn’t much care to hear any version of the song nowadays.

The audience’s clapping jolts Niall from his reverie and he joins in. He can feel Shawn’s eyes on him, and he wants to keep looking forward, but something pulls his gaze toward Shawn’s concerned face.

“Where did you go?” Shawn asks, his voice low. “You were like a million miles away.”

Before Niall can respond, not that he has any idea what to say, Louis pops on stage, microphone in one hand and a few baskets stacked in the other.

“I hope you’re all enjoying the show so far,” he says, no trace of the apparent stress from before the concert on his face. He holds up the baskets. “Now for this next number, I’d like to welcome a few of the girls from the One Love singing group. As they entertain us, we’ll be passing around baskets for donations. Ariana assures me that every penny raised – although don’t throw pennies in, that’s rude – will go straight to the hospital in Springfield to support their new cancer wing, a cause close to my heart and I’m sure many of yours. Alright, take it away, ladies!”

Ariana strides out to the middle of the stage, smiling and waving, followed by three other young women. Their skimpy Santa outfits look familiar to Niall but he doesn’t realize what act they’re about to put on until they strike their pose and the opening notes of  _ Jingle Bell Rock _ blare over the speakers.

A middle-aged woman stands and moves to the middle aisle to record the performance and Niall thinks it’s part of the bit until Shawn leans over, whispering, “That’s Kendall’s mom, she’s super nice but I don’t think they really asked her to do that.”

Niall hasn’t watched  _ Mean Girls _ in years, but from what he can remember, it’s a move-for-move perfect impression, and they sound terrific. He tosses a twenty into the basket when it’s passed around their row. 

“What a bright time, it’s the right time...”

Niall whips his head in the direction of the smooth, rich voice quietly joining in the singing from the seat next to him. 

“...to rock the night away…” Shawn notices Niall watching him and his whole face breaks into a smile, one that Niall swears he can practically hear in Shawn’s voice as he continues, “jingle bell time is a swell time to go gliding in a one-horse sleigh!”

Niall gives up all pretense and watches Shawn sing along to the rest of the number, a light pink blush warming Shawn’s cheeks as the warm notes of his voice settle over Niall. They both forget to clap when the song is over.

There are a few more numbers after that, but Niall couldn’t tell you what they were. Shawn’s put his arm on the armrest between them and Niall’s too busy surreptitiously watching his hand twitch every so often, just barely crossing over into Niall’s space before pulling back.

“Thank you all so much for coming!” Danica’s voice over the speaker announcing the end of the show is the only thing that could pull Niall’s eyes away from that little dance. He looks up front to see all the kids crowding behind her on stage. “Let’s have another round of applause for our performers, you all did a great job!”

Everyone stands to clap and cheer, and Niall gets a kick out of how some of the kids blush and hide their faces while others grin and puff their chests out with pride. The applause dies down after a couple of minutes and people start to gather their coats and mill around. 

“I’ve got to dash,” Teddy announces as she zips her coat. She kisses Shawn on the cheek and whispers something in his ear before waving to the rest of them. “Okay, bye, boys!”

And with that, she’s off. Niall shuffles down the row, following Zayn and trying to resist the urge to glance back and make sure Shawn is behind him. 

Fuck it.

He glances over his shoulder and Shawn gives him a bright smile. Niall almost trips as he smiles back, so he turns and faces forward the rest of the way. This town makes him clumsy. Well, something in town does, anyway.

People seem to be taking their time leaving; chatting in clusters and revisiting the snack table. Grimmy wanders off to join a girl with light pink hair, and Liam and Zayn walk over to an empty spot on the side of the room to talk. Niall follows them, slowing his step a bit until Shawn catches up to his side, and he nudges Shawn’s elbow.

“You have a good voice,” Niall says quietly. Shawn leans in, cocking an ear to hear, and Niall can see Liam and Zayn smirking out of the corner of his eye. Busybodies. “Like, really good. Why weren’t you up there, doing a number?”

“Oh,” Shawn shrugs. He runs a hand through his hair and then moves it down to rub the back of his neck. He looks up with a grin and shrugs again. “I get nervous.”

Niall’s heart flutters. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this endeared by another person before.

“But you sang in front of me,” he says, unable to stop the loaded words from coming out of his mouth. The moment hangs between them, Shawn’s sparkling eyes searching his own, and all of the busybodies around them seem to fade away. 

But Niall’s leaving tomorrow. This can’t happen. 

He tries to think of a joke, a way to walk back the moment. “I don’t make you nervous?”

Well, that didn’t work. 

“No,” Shawn says seriously, looking him right in the eye. “You, like… calm me down.”

That didn’t work  _ at all. _

Niall’s still basically gaping at Shawn, every flip reply he can think of dying on his tongue, when Harry and Louis walk up to their little group, toasting with cups of punch.

“Congratulate me on my success, boys!” Louis demands playfully, tilting an ear toward them and beckoning with one hand. “Another concert on the books!” 

They applaud him, clapping him on the back. Harry beams with pride for his husband as they tell him how good the show was. After a few minutes, Zayn and Liam bid them farewell, heading home in different directions.

“Lou, now that the concert’s over, we can focus on your birthday dinner,” Harry declares, straightening the Santa hat perched on his curls. “I’m going to start baking tomorrow.”

“When’s your birthday, Louis?” Niall asks, surprised this is the first he’s hearing of a birthday dinner, what with the way Harry rambles on about things.

“Christmas Eve,” Louis replies, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders as Harry slumps the tiniest bit to accommodate him. “Harold here always does an open house for it, he does the baking and then our moms come over early to start a roast. Our families spend most the day over and then friends stop by whenever they can, depending on their own family stuff.”

“And we move the tree out of the dining room,” Harry adds, kissing his husband on the cheek. “Then his brother and sisters do birthday streamers and stuff, so it’s more about his birthday than Christmas for a little while.”

“That sounds like a nice tradition,” Niall remarks. “I’ll be sad to miss it.”

Louis and Harry exchange a glance at that, and Niall’s not sure what he’s missing. He looks over to Shawn, but Shawn doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Right,” Harry murmurs. He looks around the room. “Lou, what do you think? Time to start carrying stuff to the car?”

“Probably,” Louis groans. “Remind me again why I offered to store those paper mache costumes again? They take up so much space.”

“Speaking of,” Harry says, looking at Niall. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to give you a ride back, the car will be too full. I’ll barely fit.”

“That’s okay,” Niall says honestly. “It’s supposed to be a fairly warm night, and my knee hasn’t been bothering me.”

“I’ll join you,” Shawn says softly. “I walked here, so I was already planning on walking back.”

“Perfect,” Harry declares. “That’s all settled. See you guys later! Come on, Lou.”

As Harry drags Louis away, Niall has his suspicions that this coincidence is actually a harebrained matchmaking scheme, but he finds it doesn’t really matter. There are worse ways to spend time.

“Ready?” he asks. When Shawn nods, he says, “Alright, let’s go.”

They walk in step toward the door, buttoning their coats. Shawn winds a long purple scarf around his neck, and Niall admires how it complements his skin tone. Not out loud.

But still.

“You had fun tonight,” Shawn says, rather than asks, once they’re outside and walking down the path to the sidewalk.

“I did,” Niall nods. “Didn’t expect to enjoy myself that much, but I did.”

“You know what I think?” Shawn asks with a trademark grin. “I think we’re growing on you. Admit it, big city lawyer, this small town isn’t so bad.”

Niall cackles. He should hold back more, since he is leaving soon, but he likes this confident, joking side of Shawn, so he relents.

“It’s not so bad here,” he admits. “Can’t get a bagel to save my life, but the people are friendly.”

“I knew it,” Shawn says, grinning like mad as they reach the sidewalk and turn right toward Main Street. “Do you remember when I mentioned going to culinary school? I went to Wilhelmina, in the city.”

“Really?” Niall doesn’t bother hiding his astonishment. He can’t really picture Shawn anywhere but Ivy Hollow. “When?”

“Um, about six years ago now?” Shawn answers, glancing over at Niall. “Were you there then?”

“Yeah.” Niall blows out a breath, absorbing the new information. “Yeah, I’d just finished my first year at the firm around then. That’s crazy to think we were there at the same.”

“And never met.” Shawn supplies the unspoken part of Niall’s response. He smiles sheepishly. “See, that’s what I didn’t like about it, there were so many people and it was hard for me to connect with anyone. I like living here much better.”

“Even with all the busybodies and matchmakers?” Niall asks wryly.

“Yeah,” Shawn laughs. “They mean well. They care.”

They fall quiet for a couple of minutes before Niall makes his mind up.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Niall says conspiratorally. Shawn raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. “I’m actually from a small town, just about the size of this one.”

“Get out of here,” Shawn laughs. “I never would have called that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall says, looking up at the twinkling lights draped along the shops they’re passing that add to the wisp of magic that seems to be the air. “On the other side of the state. You’ll never believe me if I tell you the name of it.”

“Well, now you have to tell me,” Shawn prods, the corners of his mouth stretched in a wide smile.

“Get ready,” Niall teases, looking around as if to check no one is listening. “Snow Falls.”

“No!” Shawn cracks up, his body wracked with laughter. “You have to be kidding.  _ Snow Falls?” _

“I swear to god,” Niall says, holding up a hand as if he’s being sworn to tell the truth, and only the truth. “My dad was the town butcher. Well, still is, actually.”

“Wow, that name puts us and our year-round Christmas to shame,” Shawn says, tugging at Niall’s sleeve for him to cross the street with him. “So how did you end up in the city then?”

Niall hesitates. It’s a story he doesn’t tell most people.

But Shawn isn’t most people.

“When I was 12,” he starts, looking ahead rather than at Shawn, “my mom left my dad. Left all of us, really.”

Shawn hums sympathetically, but doesn’t interject. Maybe he can tell Niall just wants to get through it now that he’s started the story.

“It was at Christmas time,” he continues, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I tried to block it out, so I can never remember the exact day, maybe the 23rd? But my brother swears it was actually Christmas Eve, and he’s a few years older, so maybe he’s right.”

Shawn leads him around a corner, and Niall could swear he’s taking him on a longer route back, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

“My dad, he never celebrated Christmas again,” Niall says, images of his dad tearing down the decorations that year flooding his mind. “And so neither did I. We just ignored it every year, shut it out as much as possible. It was uncomfortable for people, so they left us to it. Got to the point where the only card we’d get each year was from my mom, living her new life in a big city thousands of miles away.”

He glances over at Shawn, who’s watching him with warm eyes.

“Snow Falls was too small for her, my dad said,” Niall says, taking a hand out his pocket to run through his hair. “And at some point, watching my dad just… it was like he was existing, and not living, you know? Well, it started to feel that way for me, too.”

“I’m so sorry, Niall,” Shawn says softly. He reaches over and squeezes Niall’s hand briefly before dropping it. “That sounds really hard.”

“But?” Niall asks wryly, sure there’s one coming. He twitches his hand without really meaning to.

_ “But,” _ Shawn says with a wide smile, taking Niall’s hand and holding it as the B&B comes into view down the block. “But you can’t just shut down and keep your heart closed off after something bad happens to you. It helps keep the bad, the hurt, away for awhile, and you think you’re protecting yourself. But then you end up keeping all of the good away, too.”

He looks over at Niall with twinkling eyes.

“You need the good stuff, too, right?” he continues, running his thumb lightly over the back of Niall’s hand. “You need friends, you need connection. You need, like…  _ possibility. _ You have to stay open to life, even when it’s hard.”

They come to a stop in front of the B&B and Niall glances up toward the house as he mulls over Shawn’s words.

“You might even learn to like breakfast foods aside from bagels,” Shawn teases, squeezing his hand before releasing it.

“Never,” Niall scoffs, relieved that Shawn’s letting him off the hook for now.

“Try me tomorrow,” Shawn says, a gleam in his eye. “I have something special in mind.”

Shawn starts walking backward away, managing not to trip despite those gangly legs and the fact that his eyes are on Niall and not where he’s going.

“I’ll be first in line,” Niall promises. “I’m supposed to buy Grimmy one of those famous mince pies.”

“Sure,” Shawn says easily. “That’s why you’ll be first in line.”

He winks and turns away, waving back with one last glance over his shoulder.

“I really am supposed to get one!” he calls after Shawn, knowing it’s useless. They both know why Niall will be there bright and early. 

After all, it might be his last chance.

**December 22**

“Niall! Lookin’ sharp, babes!”

Niall nods and waves to Rita across the bakery. Harry had forced him to borrow clothes that morning, appearing at his door bright and early with a pair of skinny jeans from Louis and a short-sleeved button-down shirt with a pattern of large Santa heads all over it from him. Niall’s been getting compliments from everyone he’s run into so far this morning. 

“Really sharp,” Shawn adds as he walks past Niall’s usual table, carrying a tray of dirty dishes.

Niall tries to hide his smile in the coffee mug he’d requested this morning, figuring he might as well not waste another paper cup when he knew he’d be finishing his cappuccino at the bakery.

“Sharp-dressed man!” Khalid calls out from behind the coffee bar, pumping his fist. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Niall calls out, looking up from the contract on the table in front of him. “I know, I could be a model. Or what d’you call it? An Instagram influencer.”

Satisfied with the laughs he gets with that line, Niall turns back to his breakfast. The something special Shawn had in mind turned out to be Bolo Rainha, a Portuguese Christmas cake. Shawn wouldn’t divulge the family recipe, but Niall  _ knows _ there’s some kind of liqueur in it; he can pick out the flavor among the hint of candied orange and the nuts baked into the dough. In a word, the slice of cake is delicious. 

But a bit much for breakfast, if Niall’s being honest. 

He’d rather spend the night with all seven cats at Ivy House than admit that to Shawn, so he takes another bite and rereads the last paragraph he’d been on before the interruption. It’s all pretty standard stuff, if terribly organized, Niall just has to–

“Wait!” Niall practically shouts, standing up with the contract in his hands and knocking over his mug in the process. “This is it! This is fucking  _ it!” _

Shawn comes rushing over with a rag as Niall looks around the bakery. Luckily there were no children to overhear his outburst, but a woman he recognizes from the library is tsking at him from the opposite corner. He winces and mouths “sorry” before looking excitedly over to Shawn, who’s just mopped up his table for him.

“Shawn! I found it,” he says, pointing to the loophole he’s found on the page. “This right here is the problem, all we have to do redraft this paragraph and Liam will sign this contract, I know he will.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s great, Niall,” Shawn says, shoving his hand through his hair. “I know you’ve been working really hard on this.”

“I just need to call my boss,” Niall says distractedly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I could take care of this  _ today _ with his blessing.”

“You’re calling him on a Sunday?” Shawn asks, his face pinched. “Will he be working on a Sunday?”

“Oh, yeah,” Niall assures him as he pulls up Ben Winston’s contact and hits call. “Everyone at the firm puts in at least a few hours on Sundays.”

Shawn crosses his arms and looks at Niall disapprovingly but Niall’s too busy chanting “pick up pick up pick up” under his breath to think much about it. Finally the call connects and he doesn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Mr. Winston, sir,” Niall says breathlessly. “Niall Horan here. I’m so sorry it’s taken so long, but I know how to get Liam Payne to sign the Syco contract.”

“It’s more than about time, Horan,” Winston says scornfully. Niall can picture the scowl on his face (he’s seen it enough times). “How much?”

“How much?” Niall wrinkles his brow. “No, sir, not… I’m not saying we should offer him money. It’s Article IX, all we need to do is rewrite paragraph 3 in Section B so that it doesn’t–”

“That’s quite enough, Horan,” Winston cuts him off, sighing. “We’re not changing a damn word, we’ve been working on this deal all year. This is it. It’s go time.”

“But, sir–”

“No,” Winston clips. “Now or never. Get the contract signed,  _ as is, _ or don’t bother coming back.”

Niall looks around the bakery, taking in all the people who’ve befriended him against his will and are currently watching with concern. Shawn mouths “you okay?” but Niall can’t answer that question just now so he turns to look out the large window facing Main Street, taking deep breaths. This is just so  _ typical _ of how everyone at the firm operates, no consideration of what’s right or fair. Winston is being so unreasonable, he doesn’t have to be this stubborn and power hungry and… Niall’s eyes fall on the building across the street that he now knows housed Harry’s stepfather’s law practice. 

The building that’s currently sitting empty.

“Horan!” Winston’s tinny voice barks over the phone. “Are you still there? I don’t know why this is so difficult for you–”

“I quit.”

Niall can hear Winston squawking on the other end, but he ends the call without another word. He shoves the phone into his pocket and looks around at everyone gaping at him.

Shawn takes a step toward him. “Niall–” 

“Does anyone have a car I can borrow?” Niall says loudly enough for the whole bakery to hear. “Or can I get a ride? I have to go see Liam, right now.”

“Are you–”

“I just need to get to the Christmas tree farm,” Niall interrupts, stuffing the contract into his briefcase and throwing his coat on. He looks around the room again. “Anyone?”

“Here.” A tall guy with dark hair who looks vaguely familiar tosses his keys to Niall. “Take my car, it’s the blue one right there out front.”

“Thanks,” Niall says, gathering up his things. “Thanks, um…”

“Flo.” The guy offers a hand for Niall to shake, which he manages awkwardly, almost dropping the keys in the process. “You helped out my sister Bebe yesterday. Anything you need, man, you just say the word. Leave the car out front later?”

“Yes! I will do that,” Niall calls over his shoulder as he rushes toward the door. “Thank you! Thanks!”

Niall moves quickly, tossing his things in the passenger seat and turning on the ignition. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the car is an automatic, and he throws it into Drive. Someone up there must be looking out for him, or it’s plain old-fashioned good luck, because the roads are clear and he makes it to the tree farm in record time. One eye on the clock, he parks crookedly in front of the barn where he knows he’ll find Liam. 

Grabbing the contract from his briefcase, Niall rushes inside.

“Liam! Liam, where are you? Liam!”

Liam appears from the back of the gift shop, holding his hands out to shush Niall’s frantic yelling.

“I’m right here, man,” Liam says, with the kind of exaggerated calm one might use with a spooked animal. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t sign the contract,” Niall says, chest heaving. “Don’t sign it, Liam, it’s a bad deal–”

“Okay, okay,” Liam reassures him, pulling him to the side of the shop and smiling at the onlookers. “Niall, calm down. I won’t sign it.”

“Okay,” Niall says, his breathing starting to even out after all the excitement and rushing. “Listen, if you still want an influx of capital, I know what to do. We can go to Simon Fuller in the city, you know XIX Enterprises, right? Fuller and Simon Cowell are rivals, they’re famous for hating each other. He’ll invest just to piss off Cowell.”

“Niall,” Liam says with the hint of a smile. “What do you mean  _ we? _ You want to go to this Fuller guy with me? Why would you do that?”

Niall draws himself up, puts his hands on Liam’s shoulders and looks him right in the eye. 

“Because I’m your lawyer.”

**December 24**

Niall jogs down the stairs after carrying up the last of his bags. He shrugs off his overcoat as he walks to the desk and throws it over the back of the chair. Something falls out of the inner pocket, landing on the floor with a light rustle, and he crouches down to see what it is.

He doesn’t recognize the slip of paper at first. Turning it over in his hands and examining the front, he realizes that it’s his return ticket to the city, for the trip Hailee had booked for him a week ago. 

It weighs almost nothing, but as Niall stands there, marveling at all that’s happened in the last week, he swears he can feel the weight of it in his hands. He shakes his head, remembering how eager he’d been to get back to the city, the firm, all the “conveniences” he’d missed. 

To prove he didn’t belong here.

He laughs. As the kids would say, he’d played himself. He opens up the top desk drawer and places the ticket among the things in there he’ll have to sort through later. It will be a good reminder of how far he’s come. The things he wants to do differently now.

The bell over the front door to his new office chimes and Niall looks up. He grins when he sees who his first visitor is.

“Hey,” Shawn says, ducking through the door. He’s holding a basket with a cloth over it, and Niall wonders if he’s on his way to Louis’ birthday dinner. “So… new digs, huh?”

“You heard?” Niall asks, running a hand through his hair. The longer he stays here, the more that habit’s going to stick. 

For the foreseeable future, then. 

“Yeah,” Shawn says, grinning as he approaches Niall and sets his basket on the desk. “You bought the building.”

“And the practice,” Niall adds, gesturing at the boxes strewn everywhere. “Still have some paperwork to see to–”

“Oh, a contract to get signed?” Shawn asks, his eyes sparkling. Niall had missed that in the, oh, day and a half he’d been gone. 

“Yes, Shawn, a contract to get signed,” Niall answers, rolling his eyes for effect before he jokes, “But Harry’s family is much easier to work with than Liam.” 

He takes a step closer to Shawn, not quite in his space yet but nearing it, and notices the way Shawn looks him up and down. For a split second, he wonders what Shawn thinks of him in his own casual clothes, jeans and a plain t-shirt topped with a thick wool cardigan. It’s somewhere between his suits and the outfit Harry had dressed him up in. He smoothes a hand over the sweater before looking back at Shawn. 

“It’s pretty perfect, really,” Niall continues, “I’m inheriting a town full of clients, can’t forget the surrounding rural areas, and there’s even an apartment upstairs.”

“So you’ll be pretty close to the bakery,” Shawn says casually, taking a step toward Niall. “Convenient for your daily cappuccino habit. And breakfast.”

“Ah, breakfast,” Niall shakes his head. “The one thing that’s not working out perfectly for me. Can’t believe I gave up bagels for this place.”

“The ultimate sacrifice,” Shawn remarks, the hint a smile breaking through his casual facade as he inches forward. “I can’t believe it either.”

“Think it might be worth it in the end,” Niall shrugs. “Pretty sure it will.”

“So, um…” Shawn falters before clearing his throat. “So, I got you a Christmas slash welcome home gift. Made one. For you.”

“For me?” Niall says softly, stepping so close that he and Shawn are almost touching. “What is it? Is this it?”

“Yeah,” Shawn whispers, gesturing toward the basket. “Go on, open it.”

Niall gingerly unfolds the cloth hiding whatever his present is in the basket. He doesn’t care what it is, really, as long as it’s not a kitten. He’s touched that Shawn thought to do anything for him at all after he’d torn out of the bakery and disappeared for over a day, setting the wheels in motion for Liam’s new deal and starting arrangements to move to Ivy Hollow. 

As he uncovers his gift, Niall breaks into a laugh.

“Did you make these?” Niall asks, holding up one of the bagels from inside the basket. “Shawn! Oh my god, I love you.”

He looks up when he hears Shawn’s sharp intake of breath. 

“Did you mean that?” he whispers, eyes wide. He reaches out to take Niall’s free hand in his.

And Niall thinks about downplaying his impulsive admission. He thinks about backing off, he thinks about biting his tongue for awhile. He thinks about shutting himself off. 

Nope. Not anymore. 

“I did mean it,” he says quietly, looking Shawn in the eye. He sets the bagel down in the basket. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Shawn breathes, moving his other hand to Niall’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

Niall traces scar on Shawn’s cheek with his fingertip, smiling at Shawn’s wide grin and breathing in the sweet scents from the bakery that cling to him. 

“How did you get this?” he asks, looking up to Shawn’s eyes.

“Oh, it’s embarrassing,” Shawn laughs. A light pink blush spreads across his cheeks and Niall vows to see that blush every day from here on out. “I cut myself trying to shave when I was really little.”

“That’s adorable,” Niall murmurs. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you back to meet my dad and my brother sometime, I’m sure they’ll tell you all kinds of embarrassing stories about me.”

“Really?” Shawn asks, the disbelief clear on his face right to the eyebrows raised practically to his hairline. Niall moves his hand to run through Shawn’s hair the way he’s wanted to since he saw Lou do it at the Christmas fair. 

Maybe even before that. 

It’s just as soft as he thought it would be, the curls springing back to place as he moves his fingers through them.

“Really,” Niall promises. “You can tell me if Snow Falls lives up to its name. But for now, I was thinking of heading to Louis’ birthday dinner. D’you know where I might be able to find a date?”

“Think I can help you out with that one,” Shawn says shyly. “But, um… there’s something we need to do first.”

“Yeah?” Niall asks, dropping his hand to Shawn’s waist and squeezing it lightly. “What’s that?”

Shawn points up to the ceiling, where there’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

“Oh, yes,” Niall says seriously, looking back at Shawn. “Very important piece of business.”

“Very important,” Shawn agrees solemnly before he breaks and smiles at Niall. 

Shawn steps properly into his space, arranging Niall’s other hand on his waist too, before moving his own rather large hands to cup Niall’s face.

“Merry Christmas, Niall,” he murmurs before he dips his head down and presses a soft kiss to Niall’s lips.

Niall grips Shawn’s waist, his heart racing. As Shawn pulls back with a shy smile, looking as though the words “was that okay?” are on his lips, every stupid cliche Niall has ever heard about first kisses comes to mind. There  _ were _ fireworks, it  _ did _ feel like coming home. He doesn’t say any of that, choosing instead to kiss Shawn’s full lips again, wanting to show rather than tell him just how okay it was.

“Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! [ fic post](https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/post/181275503192/a-bagel-for-all-seasons-by-disgruntledkittenface)


End file.
